As If
by lost0and0found
Summary: Sometimes you'll see two hands pressed hard together, thumbs intertwined, clenching firmly. And it's hard to tell if they're bound in a love hold or if they're arm wrestling. And what tells one from the other is... faith? CHAPTER 24.
1. Prologue

_Disclaimer: I own nothing. The characters belong to the show and I make no profit out of them._

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><p>'<strong>Act as if what you do makes a difference. It does.'<br>William James**

**Chapter 1: Prologue**

May 02 , 2011

_"The cause of securing our country is not complete. But tonight, we are once again reminded that America can do whatever we set our mind to. That is the story of our history, whether it's the pursuit of prosperity for our people, or the struggle for equality for all our citizens; our commitment to stand up for our values abroad, and our sacrifices to make the world a safer place._

_Let us remember that we can do these things not just because of wealth or power, but because of who we are: one nation, under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all. _

_Thank you. May God bless you. And may God bless the United States of America." _

Rory Gilmore put the newspaper back down on the kitchen table and closed her eyes. She could feel her eyelids burning, her temple was pulsating and suddenly she felt extremely exhausted. It was the first time in the last seventy-two hours when she actually had an opportunity to think of anything different from presidents and terrorists.

However, a few minutes passed before she was able to finally make her way to bed, throwing her shoes and clothes on the bedroom floor as she walked.

_'Home. Finally. And in no more than twenty-four hours I'll be lining up for the bouquet._'

The thought of her mother's wedding made her smile. The next day Lorelai and Luke would make their steps down the aisle and say the three-letter word. Not that this wedding came as a surprise, it was rather a decision finally put into action. They had delayed this for almost three years, what seemed like an eternity.

First it was Rory's job, following the presidential campaign, then it was Jess going to Pakistan for almost two years... The mere thought of him going there still made her a little nauseous. As soon as she had heard about that from Lorelai, she had went straight to the Truncheon to... do what, exactly? Talk him out of it? Headstrong as he was, making him do anything without using some supernatural Jedi mind tricking powers was hard to imagine. Or did she want to say goodbye? Maybe. Although she was a disaster at goodbyes...

She just knew it would be a stupendous mistake not to go and see him before he left.

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><p><em> Apr 25, 2009<em>

_So, an early April morning in 2009 she materialized on Truncheon territory, not entirely sure he would even be there. She hadn't seen him since that unfortunate evening when she came here for the first time._

_Then, as months passed, she had been busy at work ('busy' meaning 'too ashamed') to visit again. There had been some emailing, though. She had started with one or two letters on holidays and was relieved to find he answered them, eventually. So, here she was for the second time, hoping it would end up somehow differently this time._

'Hey.' Rory greeted and smiled broadly, trying to avoid the initial awkwardness.

_Well, isn't this a day of surprises?_

Jess ran a hand through his hair and stopped at the threshold, holding on to the doorknob.

_He didn't smile back. Of course he won't smile back, what did you expect?_

'Sorry for waking you,' she started apologetically, 'I wanted to make sure, ehm, I caught you home,' she finished and bit her lip.

She tried to read his shifts of expression, but they mainly showed surprise, followed by a quick unreadable glitter and then... was, was that _annoyance_? Given the early hour, it was bound to be.

_Of course._

Jess closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead with his thumb and forefinger in attempt to concentrate and connect the dots that could possibly lead her to his door.

_'Ah, but of course, she's on a mission – save poor self-destructive Jess - or something.'_

'Lorelai shouldn't have told you,' he sighed and stepped aside so she could walk in.

'I'm also happy to see you... I guess,' Rory mumbled as she entered.

'Huh... Want something to drink?' he asked, heading for the fridge.

She took a look around. The room was rather messy, there were a couple of bags and packed boxes, as well as a large suitcase by the sofa. Rory felt awkward. It all felt awkward, out of place. She felt an urge to start unpacking, he didn't have to leave, she wanted to empty those bags, take the baggage out, throw the suitcase out of the window. She shook that urge off.

'When are you leaving? Tomorrow?'

She was trying to play it cool. Hey, when are you leaving, Jess? As if she were asking him when he was going to pick up the laundry. She suspected her voice trembled a little too much to pull the intended coolness off.

_'Why do I feel like I'm running out of time? Was it really so important that I came here and talked to him before he left? It doesn't concern me where he decides to go. Not anymore. I haven't been there for him for the last couple of years, so what difference does it make if I am now? But today I 'm here. Today, I wanna be here for you, will you let me?'_

Jess closed the fridge and gave her a long look while holding a soda in each hand. He reminded her of the bartender in a western movie, fixing his eyes on a newcomer so he could measure her right away, using his bare eyes.

Rory crossed her arms before her chest and waited, using the opportunity to make observations of her own.

Did he look a little different? His hair was cut somewhat shorter than he used to keep it, he also seemed to have put on a kilo or so and his eyes lacked their previous fascination with her but apart from that he was still Jess.

_Stubborn, grown-up, was-my-first-love, hurt-me-hurt-him, missed-him… oh, shut up, Gilmore… Jess._

'Tomorrow, late in the evening,' he answered at last and put the two bottles on the kitchen island.

'Were you going to tell me?' she asked quietly, tucking a strand behind her ear, her eyes focusing on her shoe tips.

This question had been fighting its way from the second she learned that he was going to Pakistan to make a research for his next book. She didn't want this to sound like she was calling him to account for not telling her. After all, it was kind of his habit to leave without a word to anyone. But this time he was going to leave without a word to her only and she kind of felt she deserved it.

'I...' he made a pause and she read his expression this time. He had thought about it, if not else. 'I was going to write to you. Later.' He pronounced the words slowly, almost carefully, so she didn't get him wrong. He would tell her when he was already there.

'It's not as if I'm joining the army or something,' he shrugged a shoulder, 'I'm just going on a...'he waved a hand nonchalantly, '... field trip. And I'm planning on coming back in a couple of months, all body parts hopefully in place and everything, I promise.'

She watched him as he tried to joke about it and it made her feel a little nauseous.

_Okay, Rory, you wanted to come. You came, now what?_

Truth be said, she hadn't expected him to act any differently than he did. Of course he wouldn't change his mind, especially on such an important decision, just because she told him to... The other way around, she had had great use of his words one year ago, when he reminded her to hold on to herself and do her thing, no matter what.

'You really want to do this, Jess?' she asked incredulously. It sounded downright stupid asking him such a question given the circumstances, but she wanted to put it simple.

Jess raised an eyebrow but restrained a smile as he studied her closely. He pondered over the answer, not only because he wanted it to be correctly interpreted, but also because he had asked himself the same question millions of times before he bought the plane ticket and started packing.

His interest in terrorism originated from anger, in one way or another. And anger was always an untrustworthy adviser. To make things even worse, his anger was nevertheless related to her. The infamous open house incident had been some break-point, at least that was how he saw it. She had come and altered their relationship, pretty irreversibly. Something got broken that night and he had to change his point of view or else he would just stay stuck in that moment, devoured by anger and self-pity.

The thing was, he had pretty much lived with the idea that when he fixed himself, when he achieved something in life, he would be able to fix _them_ and make it work. Somehow.

Anyway, it turned out things didn't work his way and at first that pissed him. Like a lot. And then another thought came by, strongly assisted by Matt and Chris – it didn't actually have to be the end of him. The end of Rory and Jess didn't have to be the end of Jess, after all. He had started something good. Something worthy. He had published a book, that's a start. He had met two guys, geeky enough to work with him and together they started Truncheon. _When a dream burns, you can put the ashes in the built of another_ (or at least that was what Matt had said one evening, inspired by a certain quantity of wine). That same night Jess, encouraged by the same (plus some extra whiskey) had thought this was the best piece of advice Matt had given him. Ever.

It turned out that eventually, Matt might have been right.

So, Jess started searching for something bigger than the first book. Bigger than disappointment, bigger than Rory, something that would make a difference and count if he did right. Maybe, of all people, he didn't tell _her_ about his plans because he feared she might somehow be able to change his mind and stop him from detaching himself from her.

_No... Rory? Still? It's ancient history._

Perhaps you never really got over the one person who made you believe in a better version of you.

There were moments when he hated this ridiculous dependency he had on her, this close to obsession addiction that made him want her around just because with her life tasted better.

'I want this to count,' he said at last, shrugged a shoulder and drank from his soda.

Rory nodded thoughtfully and approached the kitchen island. She took her bottle and drank, too, taking a look around the place.

'You didn't take much, did you?', she asked, addressing his luggage.

'Books, mostly,' he said, a little surprised she had somehow changed the topic. It was his thing to do, escaping uncomfortable conversations, not hers.

'Can I ask you a favor?' she asked casually.

'Am I gonna regret it ever since?', he smirked. 'Wait, stupid question, do I keep my right of a death wish at least? You're playing _The Clash_ on my funeral.'

'Come with me to_ 'Legally Blonde the Musical'_, they're playing it tonight.' she spilled, leaving him wordless for a couple of seconds, right before he burst into sincere laughter.

'You want me to come see _The Blonde_ with you, that's your favor?' he inquired, rubbing his temple, trying not to burst into laughter again.

'Yup,' she confirmed simply.

Jess looked at her quizzically, as if he expected this to be some sort of bait, but she simply looked back. Blue. Sinking and drowning into this blue abyss had always been so quick and easy.

'Okay, then,' he shrugged, trying to look casual. 'I'll come see the blonde with you.'

He got it now. That was her way to say she accepted his decision and would respect it.

_I'm sorry I doubted you. It's okay, I would've doubted me, too._

She believed him when he said this whole project was so important to him. In some way, it touched a part of him he thought he had long buried.

_Because you didn't say goodbye. _

_Oh. Bye, Rory. _

_Bye, Jess._

Late next evening Jess got on a plane to Pakistan. Back then, he never imagined it would be no sooner than two years later that he would get on that same plane, only this time, on his way back.

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><p><strong>Mood song – 'Sometimes you can't make it on your own', U2<strong>

**Reviews would be highly appreciated :)**


	2. Back to Stars Hollow

_Disclaimer__: I own nothing (including the 'Godfather'_ _reference at the end of the chapter). The characters belong to the show and I make no profit out of them. Aarif's mine though._

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><p>'<strong>It's often just enough to be with someone. I don't need to touch them. Not even talk. A feeling passes between you both. You're not alone.'<br>Marilyn Monroe **

**Chapter 2: Back to Stars Hollow**

May 03, 2011

Rory Gilmore opened her eyes and glanced at the clock on her bedside table. 7 a.m. In less than twelve hours she would be back in Stars Hollow.

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><p>'...<em>because of who we are: one nation, under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all...'<em>

'Mister Mariano, right?' the flight assistant ensured.

Jess tore his eyes from the screen of his laptop and nodded.

'Here's your board card.'

It was almost unfamiliar to hear a native speaker again. During the last two years, he had traveled thousands of kilometers and the people he met along seemed extremely self-opinionated about what an actual American accent sounded like. At first it amused him. With time, however, it rubbed on him. He made it a habit of his to observe the specifics of people's accents during his travels. It served like some kind of ID, code of the place, something that left traces in his memory.

He had started his trip in Islamabad, where he visited some universities and their libraries. He met a couple of teachers, made acquaintances with people who had moved from the States to Islamabad for one reason or another. Every person was a story and even back then, in those first two months of his trip, he knew he was on his way to find that tingle, that change in routine he'd been looking for.

However, his main target were a couple of suburb villages, but to get there he needed some help with the language as Urdu wasn't exactly his forte.

That's how he met Aarif. After months of talking to plumpy bearded interpreters, he had somehow gotten used to their accent, including the _'hhh'_ sound they occasionally put here and there in words like _'have'_ and _'hurry'_.

And then there was Aarif. Later, when he thought about it, there was his trip before Aarif and his trip after Aarif. They met in a bookshop in Quetta. They were close to having an actual fight over a _'Farewell to Arms'_ copy and that was fate itself. They didn't part since. Aarif got a temporary job and Jess had an interpreter with some actual knowledge in literature.

The plane glided over the clouds and the afternoon sun threw a bunch of rays in, sneaking their way between the clouds. Jess fished in his coat pocket for the sparkly flowery thing.

_'Invitation_ _to_ _Luke and Lorelai's Wedding'_ was written on the cover, shiny golden letters in what was (he could bet his new book script on that) Lorelai's handwriting. He was just too familiar with Luke's, plus the whole fluff that threatened to jump out of the invitation and strangle him in pink ribbon could only be Lorelai's idea. If it were up to Luke, the cards would most probably be personally delivered with a food package and jug of coffee by some check-shirted boy who had his baseball hat turned backwards.

_Well, that's gonna be interesting_, he thought. Going back to Stars Hollow was weird enough, but going back to Stars Hollow _after two years in Pakistan_ was off the chart of weirdness, really. It seemed surreal. Like watching some movie he hadn't finished at the time, going back felt familiar, yet different from how it used to.

He remembered Aarif's parting words, _'Destiny is a saddled donkey, he goes wherever you lead him.'_

_A saddled donkey. _Jess shook his head and smiled._ We'll see about that_, he thought to himself and slipped the invitation back into his pocket.

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><p>'He hasn't arrived yet.'<p>

Rory tried to look perplexed. 'Who? Who hasn't arrived yet ?'

Lorelai gave her an _'I'm your mother, can't fool me_' look and put the vase back down on the table.

'You know who, Rory.'

Rory narrowed her eyes, pretending to be thinking hard, then got an _'Evrika!_'expression.

'That would be Lord Voldemort! Yeah, definitely didn't register any deatheaters in the shadows as we came in, but I'm sure he'll come eventually, if you made sure to send him an invitation.'

'I meant Jess, dear offspring. He hasn't arrived yet. Little punk, Luke's nephew who went to Pakistan to scare terrorists, does that ring a bell?' Lorelai made a meaningful gesture with the decorative veil she'd been trying to tie around the back of a chair.

Rory stubbornly tried to keep a poker face. Her poker face was hardly ever credible.

'Sweetheart, you're looking at the door more often than you blink, the math's quite simple,' Lorelai finished, tilting her head towards the door.

Rory continued to arrange the cutlery on the table like she couldn't care less what her mom was saying, so Lorelai decided to play nasty. 'Luke called, though.'

Rory's hands started repeating the same movement as she tried not to give out that easily, waiting for her mother to finish. But Lorelai suddenly seemed extremely occupied with the decorative veils that hung from the chairs around the table. As Paul Anka entered the room, she spread her hands and the dog nuzzled his head.

Rory stopped shifting the same fork between two certain spots on the table and couldn't help a blush as she asked, 'Everything's fine, right?'

Lorelai allowed herself an inner smile. No daughter should ever try to get around her mom without sharing.

'Yeah, everything's fine, grasshopper.' She cast an occasional glance at her watch and made a noise strongly resembling the scream of a wild bird. 'Rory!'

At that, both Paul Anka and Rory jumped into place and the napkin Rory had been folding slipped from her hands. 'What! What's burning?'

'It's almost time, I should be changing already. Thanks for finishing here for me, sweetheart, I'm a proud mother... keep a watch on Paul Anka, he has a thing for the veils. See you upstairs...' Lorelai said on her way up the stairs and in less than ten seconds she was out of sight.

Rory continued arranging the table and found her hands moving much faster without Lorelai questioning her. She had almost forgotten the difference between being questioned on the phone and being dissected by her mother in person. Rory imagined her mother as a policewoman in a previous life, or, this one was even better, a _private investigator_, all dressed up in mackintosh, sunglasses and a kerchief, riding a pink Cadillac, her kerchief flapping in the wind while the sun was setting down behind the hills...

'Hello, _cousin_.'

Rory jumped at the sound coming from behind her shoulder, toppling down a vase beside her arm.

'Jess!' she pronounced before she had fully turned back to see Jess crouching, holding the unfortunate vase in hands.

'That was close,' he smirked. 'So, I suppose I should start again. Hi, Rory. This is for you – precious gift from a faraway land,' he continued, handling her the vase ceremonially.

Mechanically, Rory took the vase, grateful that her hands were occupied with something so she didn't follow the sudden urge to clasp him in excitement. For a long moment she felt stoned, just standing there holding on to the vase, knuckles going white.

Jess tilted his head a little so that he got a better view of her face.

'Rory?'

He was starting to wonder if she could have fallen into some sort of coma.

'You grew a beard,' Rory mumbled, starting to feel she had a jaw and articulation muscles.

'Jeez, if I knew it would produce such an effect, I would've shaven in the plane, regardless of the cuts and the blood loss,' Jess smirked, shaking his head.

Rory finally came back to her senses,

'Are you going to wear a fez and skip dinner because two of the dishes may contain traces of pork?' she raised her eyebrows.

'Actually, yeah,' he laughed. 'Right after I have publicly pronounced the _Shahadah. _Seriously,' he rubbed his short box beard, 'I might have lost the ability to shave, didn't need the skill for a while.'

'You could go for a _Count of Monte Cristo_ effect. Growing a beard so that even your fiancee won't recognize you.'

Jess rose a hand, drawing an invisible line in the air.

'Stars Hollow welcomes a newcomer, oblivious to his real identity. Prudent Stars Hollowers unaware of the impending menace.'

'Huh, I'm sure Taylor would be _ecstatic_ to find out you're here,' she laughed. 'When did you arrive?'

'There must have been an hour or so, I don't keep track. Went to see Luke, then, eh, came here,' _to see you_, he finished inwardly.

Her lips curved up and he smiled back without any particular reason. It just felt nice to talk to her again and, shockingly, it was even okay this conversation took place in Stars Hollow.

Rory suddenly became aware she was still gripping the vase and put it back down. She remembered she'd better be arranging the table when her mom came back, because an angry bride and an angry Lorelai made a dangerous combination.

'I better get down to business,' she bit on her lip, looking at a box full of cutlery. 'Or I risk being disinherited.'

She took a couple of forks and started setting them.

Jess watched her for a few seconds, then moved to the opposite end of the table and started helping her.

'You could always provide for yourself,' he mused. 'I've heard that an Ivy League education is supposed to give you a head start,' he added as he met her inquiring look.

His voice gave out his amusement.

'You still think I chose Yale 'cause it's fancy,' Rory shook her head.

Of course, rebelious self-educated Jess would always question the allure of elite schools.

'I think you chose Yale 'cause it's what you wanted.'

Rory stopped to give him a look. He looked dead serious and she felt blood rushing to her face. Then, his face cracked with a smirk.

'_And_ it's fancy,' he added, making her roll her eyes.

They continued setting the table in silence for a while. Then Rory asked,

'How's Luke? Freaking out?'

'He was still in the kitchen when I left,' Jess shook his head in disbelief. 'The guy must be completely nuts not to order catering for his own wedding. Think he's advertising,' he lowered his voice and gave her a wink.

'Jess...' she started, but as soon as she did, realized it was too awkward to question him right now. She had repeated the same questions so many times in her head that they had started to sound like some natural background to her thoughts. But now that she actually faced him, it seemed ridiculously soon for bringing them up, after all this time.

'Huh?'

'I saw a greeting card for Pakistan's independence day,' she blurted. 'It was a picture of Lahore at night. There was this high minaret and I think there was a fair or something, or maybe it was just a market, and there were like dozens of people I couldn't actually see but... you may laugh but one looked a little like you and I bought the card. I thought I would send it to Luke but then it sounded kinda stupid and I...'

Rory became aware he wasn't listening anymore but was shaking with laughter. For a moment she didn't react, she just tried to remember the last time she had heard him laugh heartedly and made a mental note to hear the sound again. Soon, hopefully.

'I had almost forgotten how many words you can say without bothering to breathe.' he said in between snorts, shaking his head.

'I knew you would laugh,' she shrugged, 'but it did make sense back then.'

'Sure it did,' he smirked, and then continued conspiratorially, 'If the guy was selling raisins and wearing a turban, it might have really been me, just so you know.'

'Hah – hah, he was actually reading,' she rolled her eyes.

'You're hilarious. Now, are you gonna tell me it was Hemingway?'

Rory made a face and thought of quitting this conversation, but it felt too familiar and easy to fall back into the old routine that she didn't really mind letting him mock her.

'As a matter of fact, it was,' she replied with fake seriousness. 'The turban suits you, I have to say.'

'Huh! And I have a few raisins left in my pocket, managed to sneak them around security at the airport.'

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><p>'Jess?' Luke made little circles in front of the bathroom, fidgeting nervously.<p>

'Jess, come on, it can't be that bad.'

'Oh, yes, it can,' Jess' voice carried from inside.

Luke started knocking on the door.

'Get out of there or I'm leaving without you and I'm picking a random guy from the church choir to be my best man!'

The door opened and Jess appeared with a sulky expression on his face. There was a long cut across his left cheek.

Luke watched him for a couple of seconds before he burst into sincere laughter.

'Whoa, this was worth the wait,' he shook his head. 'You should've seen your face the moment you came out of there... Don't worry,' he tapped Jess' shoulder, 'we'll tell them there was a vicious swan in the bath tub while you were shaving. Or you can just spend the whole wedding covering it with your hand, yeah, just like that.'

Jess made a dirty face and walked past his uncle, pulling him by the arm.

The old guy thought he was being funny, huh? And how the hell did he still remember the swan incident?

'C'mon,' Jess sneered, 'or it's gonna be a short marriage as soon as the bride kills the groom for making her wait at the altar. I need to find some band-aid.'

* * *

><p>'Hey...'<p>

Jess turned back, somewhat torn from his thoughts, cigarette in hand. The voice that pulled him back to reality belonged to the same person that had consumed his thoughts for the last couple of hours.

'Hey,' he greeted back as Rory made a few steps on the porch.

She stopped at a certain distance, as if she was asking for permission to break his solitude. Dinner was over and Luke and Lorelai were seeing the guests out. There was a vague promise of oncoming rain in the air. The sky was overcast with lazy shaggy clouds.

'Any record of trespassing werewolves outside?' Rory inquired, looking up at the moon.

Jess shook his head and looked up, too. He pulled on his cigarette and the smoke out slowly, narrowing his eyes.

'None yet. Any trespassing newlywed inside?,' he inquired in a small voice.

She smiled and answered in half whisper, joining the game,

'I managed to detect two. Very, _very_ suspicious. Think they're in love or something, should check on them when all guests leave, what do you say?'

Jess didn't answer, he was consumed by some thought.

'You know, they have it going on for four days – the whole wedding-committing ritual thing,' he said absentmindedly.

It took Rory a couple of seconds to figure his mind had switched to Pakistan. It was the first time he referred to his trip this evening and she let herself feel some content with the fact he was willingly telling her anything about it. In the rare occasions he wrote to her, he avoided sharing facts about his experience there and they mainly discussed literature and world events, so she didn't know much about it. She had hoped he would tell her as he came back.

'Before the wedding,' Jess continued, 'the bride-to-be goes through _Mehndi_ – the Henna ceremony. Her hands and face end up painted with henna symbols. When you first see it, it's kinda twisted. I thought it was punky at the time.'

He smiled and puffed a couple of tiny smoke clouds.

'Still, every symbol is a story. When you think twice, you can't imagine the whole thing without the henna ceremony.'

Rory leaned forward, resting her elbows on the rail. She closed her eyes in concentration as she recited, _'Young lovers seek perfection. Old lovers learn the art of sewing shreds together and of seeing beauty in the multiplicity of patches.'_

Jess turned to look at her and found her relaxing on the rail, eyes closed as a little smile harboured at the corner of her mouth. Having the opportunity to consume the sight of her without her actually knowing clicked some old, long sleeping habit of his eyes and they traveled, taking in every detail.

Maybe the realization she still held some grip over him, regardless time and circumstance, helped his self control emerge like a straw in the water. Every time he felt this way in her presence, there was a tiny angry voice that gave him a hard time over not being able to act reasonably. In such moments the only reasonable thing seemed pouncing at her, kissing her brains out and making her clutch for the damn rail...

'Wasn't that from some girl movie?' he inquired, turning back towards the overcast moon before them.

She opened her eyes and her smile grew into a grin.

'It's from the _American Quilt_.'

'Ah,' he nodded knowingly. 'Very patriotic. Once you realize how much you like something, you have to compare it to something homemade. Never really thought of that before Aarif made fun of me over some comparison I used. He wouldn't stop bringing it up for weeks, so in the end I found it funny myself.'

Rory made a mental note to ask about Aarif later. She wanted to ask him so many questions, he could well gather material for a whole book if he decided to answer them all.

'You've changed,' she noted. He didn't answer, so she specified, 'You've grown up.'

'I hope so,' he said seriously. 'Was about time, huh?'

'Did you find what you were looking for?'

'Keep getting closer, I think,' he shrugged, hands stuck deep in his pockets.

'Jess...' she felt his look on her and tucked back a stray hair that had slipped from her messy updo. 'I know I have absolutely no service to it, but I feel so _proud_.'

She closed her eyes and smiled. For a moment she looked sixteen again.

'I always knew you could do it. Now you know it, too.'

Suddenly she looked him in the eye, pointing her index towards his chest.

'And don't tell me it's no biggie, 'cause it is.'

The last sentence found him open-mouthed and having considered it, Jess closed his mouth and shrugged.

'Okay.'

For a while they stood in silence, watching the clouds linger over the moon.

'Luke said a swan beaked you while you were shaving.'

'Huh. Did he?'

'Does the verb beak even exist?' Rory inquired, narrowing her eyes.

Jess rubbed the back of his neck.

'Sure it does.'

'Yeah, sure.' Rory smiled and breathed in the smell of the oncoming rain. 'It's good to see you, Jess.'

_It's good to see you, too_, he thought. _Too good, actually_. But seeing her also brought back into focus some questions he wasn't sure he was ready to answer. Of course, he already knew the answers, as Aarif would point out. He was just not ready to _admit_ them. Not yet. Not tonight, sure as hell.

'You wrote to me,' he changed topic and the words somewhat hung in the air. They consisted of both accusation and gratitude.

Rory blushed. Fiercely. He could tell, although it was dark and he couldn't see her face clearly, the only light coming from an old-fashioned lantern Emily strongly resented, which automatically made it one of Lorelai's favorite acquisitions.

'I wasn't sure you even read the letters,' she mumbled. 'Until that one.' Rory felt she was blushing again, but it was with delight this time.

'Ah, you mean _the meltdown_?' he smirked.

Rory made a grimace.

'If that's what you chose to call it, yes, I mean the meltdown,' she confirmed.

_The meltdown_ was written three months after Jess left for Pakistan. It was the last letter she wrote to him, or at least that was what she'd thought at the time. The only thing she had heard from Jess since he left was a short, almost telegraphic email, notifying her he had arrived in Islamabad, whole and safe. Then nothing. Three months of silence in his behalf.

'I thought you didn't care,' she shrugged. 'And I didn't write only to say something, you know? I could've well never sent the emails and it would be the same without you writing back.' Rory felt angry for a second, remembering how stupid she'd felt.

_Rory moved uneasily in her bed as she heard the annoying sound again. Unwillingly, she took the sheet off her head, unwrapping herself enough to reach for her mobile on the bedside table. Who dared wake her up at… what time was it? 3 a.m., or was that 2 … nevermind, her eyes tingled too much to see clearly. _

'_Hey, 'ts up?'_

_Immediately awaken, Rory sat up in the bed and gripped her mobile tighter, reminding herself to count to five before blurting the first thing that came to mind. So she just waited for him to speak first. She had to wait awhile.  
><em>

'_I came over '**The Reluctant Fundamentalist**' in a bookshop around here, Quetta, that is, and I decided to give it a try. Hamid makes you have second, if not even third thoughts. I read it twice already but I think I may give it another look these days.'_

_She knew he wasn't calling to discuss literature, but he wasn't getting to the point until he chose to._

'_What do you want, Jess?' she inquired, impatience making its way through her voice. She was familiar with this game, she wasn't playing along this time, although a treacherous voice was telling her she had hoped he would call._

_Jess didn't answer for a couple of seconds, so she just decided to cut it straight. 'Okay then, thanks for calling.'_

'_Wait, don't hang up.' _

_The urgency in his voice stopped her. Who knows, maybe he had something to say, after all._

_ 'Why did you write to me?' _

_Rory blinked twice before answering._

'_What?.'_

_'Why did you...'_

_She cut him short, _

_'Why did I write to you, are you joking?! Why did I, really, that's what I've been asking myself too and, you know what? No answer occurred to me in the last three, no, wait, three and a half months, but who's bothering to count anyway? So I'm cutting it. Oh, and I'm also cutting this conversation – bye, Jess.'_

'_Ror…'_

_She hung up before he could finish, feeling her heart race with anger. Why did she write to him, was he serious? How many different reasons could there possibly be for that? What kind of retarded_ _question was that, had he suddenly lost the majority of his IQ due to a sunstroke or something? _

_She got off the bed and started pacing around, her mobile still in her hand. He did call, though. A couple of hours after she informed him she was quitting her written monologue, he called. He hadn't made it a dialogue, but he had been listening… reading._

_ She looked at the mobile as if it was to blame for all global problems and threw it on the bed. Feeling the need to do something, she headed for her desk. Waiting for her laptop to load seemed long enough, then while she waited for her inbox to open her heart might have skipped a beat or two. She told herself it wasn't that big of a deal, but it felt like one, especially as she saw she got mail. Sent two minutes earlier._

'_You know what trick I learned here? Come on, you should do it yourself, just take a sheet of paper and roll it like a tube. Ready? Now take it in your left hand to look through with your left eye. Then raise your right hand and put your palm before your right eye, closer and closer to the rolled sheet... a little closer. See? You have a hole in your right hand that you can see through. Boo! Now put the paper away and look at your right hand. It's whole again, I can tell._

_Anything is possible, Rory. You just had a hole in your hand. Anything's possible.' _

_Rory grabbed her phone and dialed. She started as soon as she heard him pick up._

'_That's not even a letter, you know that, right?'_

'_Well, I didn't have much time, given the circumstances. But I'm getting better in future, I promise.' _

_He sounded sincere, judging by how hastily he talked. _

_'I, ehm... I'm glad you're calling.' _

_She pondered for a second, a little surprised with the relief she felt at the sound of his voice._

'_We'll see about that.' Then, a little less acidly, 'I'll leave the gun.' _

_'Huh, and I'll get the cannoli.'_

_Truce. Officially._

* * *

><p><strong>Mood song – 'Hope a Little Harder' by Amy Kuney<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Reviews would be appreciated:)<strong>


	3. Coffee and Cookies

**A/N: I own nothing, the characters belong to the show, I make no profit. **

**Aarif's all mine, though:P**

* * *

><p>'<strong>The most beautiful discovery true friends make is that they can grow separately without growing apart.'<strong>

**Elisabeth Foley**

**Chapter 3: Coffee and Cookies**

Rory woke up in blissful unawareness of time and space, feeling weightless in the soft sheets. The smell of freshly washed cotton and the way it felt against her skin made her feel like a butterfly in a cocoon. She could feel a ray dancing along her chin and her eyes traced it out of the window. Letting go had never felt better.

She stretched and fumbled over the night table beside her, searching for her mobile. Once it was in her hand, she dialed impatiently. There was someone she couldn't wait to see in private since she came back.

'Hey, you're up, that's good. My place or yours? I'll bring the cookies. See ya.'

* * *

><p>'They had stuck confetti in my car ventilation system. I started the conditioning and suddenly it was like Seoul's Lotus Lantern Festival, I was this close to getting a heart attack,' Lane raised her hand, waving her thumb and forefinger close to each other.<p>

'You're tougher than that, I can tell,' Rory said, putting a fist up in the air. 'So can the boys. They seem to have a thing for surprises, eh?'

Lane pulled a sarcastic face and sipped from her coffee.

'Well, I was surprised. I knew Zack had something to do with it. I suspected there was something fishy ever since he told me he had some work in the garage and couldn't drive me to Hartford. On my _birthday_. And he was busy. Anyway, a week of kitchen slavery should be able to put every man in his place, at least for a while... God, I'm turning into Mrs. Kim's daughter, flesh and blood! Wait, I _am_ Mrs. Kim's flesh and blood. Oh my god...' she shook her head in despair.

Lane took a cookie but didn't eat it. She waved it before Rory's eyes instead.

'Come on, Rory, what's with the face?'

'What face?' Rory sobered up. 'There is no face. I'm absolutely faceless. See?' Rory defended, obtaining what she thought of as a perfectly faceless expression.

'Sure there _is_ a face and you're pulling it right now. _Talk_!' her friend demanded in such an imperative tone, that Rory felt impelled to answer. She _was_ Mrs. Kim's daughter, after all.

Rory paused a little and let a slight smile curl up her lips. She thought of the times when they stood up all night long, talking, hoping, dreaming. And now, years later, they were back here, only their dreams now half fulfilled and in progress, because so much has been done on the way.

'I just feel so happy for you, Lane. I mean, look at you – you're married. And a mother... Oh my god, Lane, your boys are going to kindergarten this fall, it's as if I've fallen asleep and I've missed a couple of years in the process.'

Rory shook her head and smiled again, this time nostalgically.

'I missed you.'

Lane smiled back.

'So did I. I wouldn't have the bravery to be who I am now if it weren't for you, bookworm. You always gave me a push to be who I wanted to. You know that, right?'

And just when they were about to start crying, Lane narrowed her eyes as if she had just remembered something.

'Whoa, wait a minute. You don't feel you're behind time or something, do you?'

Rory gave her an almost terrified look.

'What? No! No, of course not...' she shook her head vigorously, but then her will to convince herself suddenly evaporated at the realization she did feel a little awkward.

'Maybe. A little,' she confessed, feeling relief and embarrassment at the same time.

Lane pressed her lips together and shook her head and for a moment she looked so much like her mother.

'You know there's no filling up a life task list, Rory, you're smarter than that... Wait, you do have a life to-do list, don't you?'

'I have the_ Ultimate To-Do List_ installed on my phone, if this counts...' Rory laughed, 'Other than that, I have only winning a Pulitzer and drinking all the coffee in the world in the long run. Plus, it's not as if I didn't have the chance to get married,' she pointed a little self-ironically.

'I have some natural talent for ending relationships right after a marriage proposal. If there's a contest - enlist me, I'm a winner,' she ended with emphatic enthusiasm.

Lane's eyebrows raised a little and she nodded slowly, processing the information.

Although she had tried to question Lorelai every now and then, it seemed Lorelai had either developed some powerful secret-keeping skills, or she didn't know much herself (which, in Lorelai's case, was equal to having _nothing_ to know about, or at least nothing worth knowing about). In the brief moments she and Rory shared during Rory's holiday visits in Stars Hollow, there usually were a lot of people around, so what Lane knew about her friend's personal affairs was some telegraphic bits about going out with a guy, then going out with another guy etc. Nothing worth remembering for too long.

_But, hey, marriage proposals are worth knowing about,_ her sub-conscience protested.

Lane crossed her arms.

'Spill.'

Rory rested back in her chair, her fingers tossing a coco-sprinkled cookie around . She had wished to talk to Lane so many times, but working over a career in journalism made her holidays shorter than she wished, and having two toddler twins to take care of made her friend a little busier than she remembered her to be. Plus, it took some time for Rory to figure out what she wanted and, also, what she did _not_ want her relationships to be.

'Well, there was this guy Anthony, Antonio actually - his mother's Italian - two years ago.'

Lane's eyes widened, but she didn't say anything, her ears hungry for details.

'You know I went out with a musician when I got home for Thanksgiving the year before, right?' Rory continued. 'Well, Tony, that's him.'

'Elaborate!' Lane requested, popping a peanut in her mouth. Rory nodded, taking a peanut herself.

'I was walking on the bakery street, enjoying all baking dough scents my nostrils could possibly perceive at once, when I heard a guitar playing and someone singing. When I looked up to see where it was coming from, there was a man on a balcony, playing his guitar. He was reherearsing with his band – another guy playing the guitar and one more, with a harmonica. Antonio was the one singing at the time I looked up and when our eyes met something transpired, he stopped singing in the middle of the verse, his eyes not leaving mine. I smiled, he smiled and then I...'

Rory paused for dramatic effect, enjoying the excitement in Lane's unblinking eyes.

'I walked on, thinking they had really made my day.'

'_What_?.' Lane's glasses jumped up a little at the sudden movement of her head.

'It's always good luck when I encounter some accidental inspiration during my lunch break.' Rory explained innocently.

'Don't whitewash it now; tell me more before I have a heart attack!'

Rory's brows curled up but she continued.

'I hadn't reached the next corner when someone caught up with me. It was the balcony guy, Anthony, as he presented himself. He said his band was playing for a girl in a club tonight. And I ought to come, bring some friends if I wanted. And I did. Guess who was the girl he performed for...'

Lane's pupils were wide, wider than necessary for running a proper full eye examination. Her mouth had frozen in pure delight.

'Oh. My. God. That's so worth a movie that if I were you, I would sell the script shamelessly expensive and be a rich woman by now. We could be leading this conversation in a jacuzzi, surrounded by nice young men in scarce clothing, do you realize that?'

'Yeah? And the company who'd buy such a script is... sorry, can't think of any,' Rory shook her head and chuckled.

'Hmm, _Disney_ would, I think. Anyway, go on, I have to hear what happened with the hot musician. He was hot, right?' Lane added, a little insecurely.

Rory giggled and a faint blush painted her cheeks.

'He was talented, passionate and with unquestionably good taste in music… _and_ hot,' she added, reading the craving in her friend's eyes.

'How hot?' Lane inquired.

'Hyper-salivationly hot?' Rory closed her eyes tightly and grinned a little shyly as Lane clasped her hands in delight.

'He would play some random melody he heard in a bus or wherever and he believed he loved me.'

Rory could see Lane's face melting, the way her mother's expression had lighted up every time she would mention Dean years ago. Things had changed, though, and so did they for her and Anthony.

'But he was kind of selfish, the way most musicians are... present company excepted,' Rory added hastily. 'I found myself going out with a romantic, childish and naive teenager.'

'Wait, he was a _teenager_?' Lane's face shifted in a disgusted grimace.

'He was twenty-eight,' Rory laughed at her friend's reaction. 'So, now he must be twenty-nine, I presume.'

'Kay. Go on, math genius.' Lane nodded and popped another couple of peanuts in her mouth.

'Cute and passionate, yet he was a kid – speaking metaphorically here, my honorable prude friend - and he needed a mom rather than a girlfriend, so it didn't work out. We didn't last more than two months, really, things came on rather fast, as well as the realization it wasn't going to work. Ever.' Rory stirred her coffee and her eyes rested on the green leaves sprinkled over the elm twigs beside the window.

'Am I missing something or was that a marriage proposal you mentioned just a minute ago?' Lane asked.

'He did propose. When he saw we were over. It was the most illogical reaction - desperate, to begin with, and was not something you'd want to see with your own eyes, I promise.'

'Promise?'

'Bet my scout badge on that.'

'You don't have a scout badge,' Lane rorse a brow sceptically.

'Sure I do, don't underestimate Kirk's abilities to make real scouts out of the innocent children of Stars Hollow!' Rory pointed out with mock seriousness.

'Kirk? Really?' Lane shifted in her armchair. 'How have I missed it?'

'Think you were in Korea at the time.' Rory reasoned. 'He should've thought that a proposal could fix things…'

'Kirk? Ah, sorry, Tony that was, go on!'

'He wanted to show me he was more mature than I'd thought him to be… which, obviously, was way beyond false, and that's how we were over.'

'You and Tony,' Lane sighed dreamily.

'No, me and Kirk.' Rory rolled her eyes. 'I don't know why I'm telling you all this,' she sighed.

'Because I'm your friend and I wanna hear every single detail. It's so exciting... though I'd rather not be there when he proposed.' Lane added and her eyes caught a glimpse of nostalgia in her friend's smile.

'Hey, what happened to that suit you were dating? Last time when I had a proper chance to question you on your private affairs, which was way too long ago, you were going out with Mr Perfection, King of the Prince Charmings Kingdom, right?' Lane asked, a new wave of curiosity taking over.

Rory nodded, her smile getting bitter this time.

'Oh, you mean Peter. Peter was the man with the plan. I guess I jumped from one extremity to another, which was bound to fail. Tony was fun. I never regretted the time I spent with him. He was a complete mess sometimes, chaotic and illogical, but he was positive and, ultimately, he was fun… Peter was different.'

Lane leaned forward,

'Like _Fifty Shades_ kind of different?' she asked with a trace of hope.

'What?. No. Jeez. _No_.' Rory shook her head with disgust. 'I won't even ask how you came up with this one.'

'No whips then?'

'Gross. No whips,' Rory rolled her eyes. 'Peter had a very clear idea what his life _should_ look like and followed it quite precisely. It was like filling up the blank spaces in his work schedule and marriage was just another thing to do, at least that was what it felt like. We had been going out for three months when he proposed, which set my alarm and I ran as far as I could get. So, here I am now, after a year of no boyfriend and practically no men, if we don't count my boss and the old neighbor with the stinky cat.' Rory concluded with a shrug.

'Liar. Your nose just grew an inch. You really think you can hide something from me? We've been telling each other everything since we shared those crayons in kindergarten!' Lane pointed out with accusation.

'I don't know what you're talking about, I told you everything,' Rory shrugged.

'Oh, come on, Gilmore, what about a particular Pakistani boy I saw you talking to last night?' Lane asked, her eyes challenging, waiting for Rory's reaction.

Oh, so _that's_ what Lane meant. Why was this town always to bring a word about them two being or not being together? Years had passed. Almost ten years. Jeez, they weren't even the same people anymore. But this is Stars Hollow, people here had long, _long _lasting memory.

'So, are you together?' Lane inquired.

'What? No.'

Rory met Lane's piercing look.

'No!' she insisted. 'We exchanged a few words and here everybody starts to blow the whistle... Lane, will you stop giving me that look?'

'You're _so_ gonna end up together,' Lane shook her head knowingly. 'Who else told you so?' Lane inquired, impatient to know who else thought the same way she did, a great mind, not to be doubted.

'Told me what?' Rory asked, agitated.

'Bet it's your mum,' Lane grinned, 'Lorelai has always sensed you right.'

'_Give each other some time, hon,' Lorelai had whispered in her ear last night after the dinner, 'you'll figure it all out in time.' Rory tried to protest but her mom put a finger before her lips. 'It's forgotten already, grasshopper. Meaning I'm not interfering in your business for a while. You'll know what to do as soon as you figure out what you want.' _

_Later the same night they left for their honey week with Luke. _

'_With nothing but a bag of clothes and Luke's pick-up, here we come, roads of Connecticut!,' Lorelai had whooped as Luke started the ancient pick-up.  
><em>

Rory decided to change tactics.

'I give up, nothing can stay hidden from you, my shrewd friend. I'm moving to Libya next weekend.'

'Aha! So, is he going to Libya now?' Lane cheered up and waved a finger triumphantly. Did she really believe that?.

'I was joking, Lane,' Rory sighed. 'I don't know what his plans are, or _if_ he has any, for that matter.'

'But you have _thought_ about it.' The expression on Lane's face strongly mimicked Columbus first seeing new shore. She continued, her voice getting softer and softer. 'You have thought about coming back together with Angry Boy and you thought he might want to leave again, so you decided not to risk it another time.'

Rory listened and felt as if she was being hypnotized or something, because the words got to her. She wouldn't admit it, at least not without considerable consumption of alcohol, but Lane had some point. A _ridiculous_ point, she reminded herself.

'Wow. You should write books, Lane.'

'I will. My first blockbuster will be named _'How they admitted their love no sooner than they met in the geriatric home'_ but the title will endure further consideration, I think.'

'Sorry to disappoint, but it's bound to fail. Long titles are only allowed to well-known acknowledged authors what you, my friend, aren't yet.'

'What about _'Pigheads In Love'_?'

'Yuk. Wrong on so many levels.'

Lane shrugged apologetically.

'Sorry but _'Gone With the Wind'_ is already taken.'

Rory's head began to ache. Could it be because of the banging against the brick wall that Lane embodied right now? She sighed, feeling tired. Her sub-conscience silently reminded her she was tired because she had lead that very same conversation with Lane, Lorelai and, for the last couple of months, herself, repeatedly. And it wasn't taking her anywhere.

'It's been a long time, Lane. We're not seventeen anymore. We moved on.'

'Yeah, by our previous conversation I would draw the same conclusion myself. I can't think of anyone who's more _'Laura non Ce'_ than you two.'

'More what?' Rory rewinded the last sentence, trying to grasp her friend's point, but missed it again.

'It's a song.' Lane added, as if that mere fact was about to make Rory realize some of the universe's great secrets.

'Wasn't that in Italian?' Rory vaguely suggested.

'For you it's in Pakistani,' Lane gave her a wink.

Rory returned with a dirty look.

'Really, Lane, just leave it. We're friends. That's all. I'm thankful we managed to stay friends after all.'

At this moment two little boys flung into the room, a bunch of daisies pulled out with the roots in each of the boys' hands. Lane sprang up on her feet but they ended up pushing her back into her armchair, four little hands holding daisies in front of her face.

'Are these for me?' Lane asked, suspicion tracing her voice.

'Ah, little boys, come here!' a voice carried into the room from the hallway.

'Is that… Hi, Kirk!'

Rory smiled at Kirk who had just entered the room, panting.

'What's wrong, Kirk, you look upset,' she asked and tried to suppress a giggle as she figured out whose garden the daisies were uprooted from.

'You're coming with me and Kirk,' Lane turned towards Kwan and Steve. 'We're gonna plant daisies!' she added in what Rory knew to be her mildly sarcastic tone.

'Cool!' the two boys cheered before seeing their mother's expression.

'We mean sorry, Kirk.'

'Yeah, sorry. Kirk.'

The boys followed their mother to the door where Lane turned back.

'We're not finished here, I'll be right back, okay?'

'Sure,' Rory returned Lane's wink.

'Find _Selah Sue_ and tell me what you think!' Lane nodded towards her disc collection before disappearing into the hallway, followed by the twins and Kirk, who was muttering something about rooting in porous soil and slicing off the bottom of the root ball.

_How long will it take,  
>before I make the big mistake<br>And, how long will it take  
>before my eyes speak out the truth<em>

Rory sat back down into the armchair and closed her eyes.

'_Did you find what you were looking for?' _

'_Keep getting closer, I think.'_

Rory shook her head and opened her eyes. _It is what it is_, recoiled in her head. Was that her thoughts or was it also a memory?

There were some choices where she couldn't make her pro/con list. Where every pro was a little con, every con was there to just emphasize the pros and the line between them was so paper-thin it only confused her.

_I need explanations and some fitting solutions 'cause  
>my emotions make me feel so insecure<em>...

* * *

><p>At the same time, about two hundred meters away, Lane was looking at her boys planting daisies in Kirk's back yard.<p>

'Do I love you because you're beautiful, or are you beautiful because I love you,' she hummed.

Love. Friendship. Did anyone ever find a way to divide them?

* * *

><p><strong>Mood song – 'Can't Go Back Now' by The Weepies<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Reviews are candy! :)<strong>

**Special thanks to Jess Rory Fan for the great review;):)**


	4. Aarif's Story

_Disclaimer: Nothing's mine etc._

_Aarif is, though._

* * *

><p>'<strong>The death of someone we know always reminds us that we are still alive - perhaps for some purpose which we ought to re-examine.' <strong>

**Mignon McLaughlin, _The Neurotic's Notebook_, 1960**

**Chapter 4: Aarif's Story**

Rory was lazily walking in the sunny May afternoon, enjoying the promise for cherry blossom in the air.

She caught herself feeling a glimpse of nostalgia, walking her hometown streets, feeling a little overage. There was Taylor's shop, and there was Taylor himself, she waved cheerfully. Gypsy's gas station, the little square where the snowman contest was held every year... she had missed this place, she hadn't realized how lucky she was to be born in this fairytale small town where everyone greeted you by your first name and people were good-natured and caring. One year of hitting the roads of the whole country made her aware of a different concept of home. You come home and it seems that nothing's changed. Yet, everything's changed. And then, you realize. What changed is you...

_She had just come back from the campaign and all she wanted to do was never again move from the sofa in her small Hartford apartment. _

_When her boss called her in his heavily furnished office, she thought maybe this was it, her last working day. Nobody was summoned into Mr. Bushmill's office to talk sports or get a promotion... She didn't want to switch jobs; she liked writing the small column about the health reform and the development of the educational reform concept. It wasn't a big deal, not as big as following a presidential campaign, but it gave her the opportunity to have some time for herself. She had even started attending salsa lessons, a hobby of which Paris strongly disapproved, because 'these places are nothing but a perverted way for desperate men and women to get laid'. It had been two months after she came back from the campaign and for now her everyday routine was just fine._

'_Miss Gilmore, h___ow do you feel about working in television_?' _

_Come on, Gilmore, subject plus verb plus object. That's what they taught you in the first grade. Just say something, for God's sake!  
><em>

_'I...' she started confusedly. 'What?'_

_Later that day, when she came home from work, she was still rewinding Mr. Bushmill's words in her head. _

'_Mom, hi, have you thought of buying a TiVo?' _

* * *

><p>Rory realized she had stopped walking and found herself looking over at <em>Luke's<em> where a particular man was dragging a bulky black sack to the street-tidy. He was wearing a backward baseball hat and a checked shirt, sleeves rolled up, a small book peering from the his backpocket.

She crossed the street and approached him.

'Hey Luke. Funny thing, I thought you were on a honey week with your gorgeous wife, but I see work never lets a decent man take the world off his shoulders, does it?'

Jess' lips curled up in a smirk as he recognized her voice and he turned back to greet her, his eyebrow up, a slight nod of the head. Never surprised to see her. _Another deja vu_, she thought to herself.

'Don't tell me Luke asked you to open the Diner for him while he's away,' she suggested rather reluctantly.

'Okay, I won't.' He shrugged a shoulder and continued to drag the black sack with god-knows-what contents to the street-tidy.

'He asked you to do this? Really?' she inquired suspiciously.

'No. But I know he wouldn't want the competitor diner proprietors to take the market over, guy's just got into enough trouble by marrying the love of his life.'

Rory's brow curled upwards.

'There are no competitor diner proprietors. Al's '_Pancake World_' doesn't even offer pancakes,' she reminded.

'Think of it as my wedding present.' Jess panted as he made an effort and picked the sack up to throw in the tidy.

'See, see, Jess Mariano, well known for his outstanding social skills and a fine touch in the emotional world, real people-pleaser,' Rory noted in mock appreciation.

Jess started towards the Diner, smirking.

'Huh, I may have a touch for a few things but the emotional world has never been one of them. I can bring up witnesses, they'll confirm,' he said matter-of-factly while locking the Diner, and gave her a smile. Not a smirk, but a smile. For some reason, it made Rory cringe. It wasn't only Stars Hollow she had missed. Damn.

'Yeah, I should know, shouldn't I?' she spilled without thinking.

The words were pronounced sharply, so it couldn't pass as a witty comment. She regretted them the moment they were out and bit her lip.

_Okay, Rory, you're being evil. Where did that come from_, she nudged herself mentally. _Even if you do want to vent, your timing couldn't be worse._

Of course, she of all people would know how he repeatedly mishandled his relationships with those who cared about him the most. But he had learned a few things on the way – he had accepted the fact that even those who didn't want to need anyone at all, eventually needed someone to hold on to.

_And he's not the only one who mishandled things_, she thought bitterly. Then who was she to bring up old mistakes when hers were nonetheless unforgivable?

Jess looked embarrassed. He slowly put the keys in his pocket, trying to figure out something to say. He knew some things would emerge in conversation, now that he and Rory finally let themselves talk about everything. Some conversations should've happened years earlier, they should've had the decency to bring them up. However, courage was scarce when it came to amending for your own mistakes, especially if you hadn't forgiven yourself yet. He took the baseball hat off and started playing with it in his hands, thinking feverishly how the hell he should start.

'Look, Rory...'

'I don't know where this came from, I swear,' she interrupted him swiftly, nervously. 'I'm sorry. Terribly, stupendously sorry,' she added, attempting a guilty smile. 'Come on, let's just walk,' she waved her hand and started walking slowly, waiting for him to catch up.

So, this conversation would wait some more. It had been in line for five years, after all. Maybe six.

Jess wondered for a few seconds, then nodded and put the hat back on, though forward this time. He joined her, his hands stuck deep in his pockets.

They were still walking in silence as they reached the bridge. They had unconsciously headed towards this place, led by an old everlasting habit.

Before walking over the old desks, they stopped, driven by some unvoiced signal. There was a feeling similar to entering somebody's room and this room here was full of memories.

Jess shook his head.

'Can't believe it still has some hold over me. Some things don't change, I guess.'

'They don't,' she confirmed quietly as she stood hypnotized, looking at the wooden bridge, as if her life hung on the intensity of that stare. She could almost sense the cherry blossom.

He stuck his hands even deeper in his pockets and looked sideways as he said,

'I have something for you. From Pakistan.'

Rory woke up from the disarray and grinned, a spring of joy taking over her at the thought of a Pakistani present.

'Really? Is it a rosary?'

'What? No, at least I hope not. It's from Aarif, so I don't really know what it is.'

_And hope it's not what I think it is..._ he thought as he made a few steps over the bridge.

'Okaaay...' Rory nodded slowly and followed, 'and how come Aarif whom I haven't even been introduced to has something for me?' she reasoned.

She paused, revelation dawning on her.

'Except if I _have_ been introduced.'

The slight twitch of Jess' face confirmed so. She stopped walking and turned back, standing in his way, making him stop in his track.

'Jess, did you let him read my letters?' she required sharply.

Jess raised an eyebrow, amused. Did she really think he would share his personal correspondence? Ever? With anyone at all? _Seriously_? That was hilarious, absolutely hilarious.

'No I didn't,' he stated simply.

But she wouldn't listen, misreading his amusement.

'I can't believe it. You of all people, did you... Jeez, I can't believe it!' she rambled, shaking her head.

'Relax, Maggie, no one's read anything.'

Somehow the change of tune and the movie reference made her stop winding up.

'You sure?' she asked, still a little suspicious.

'Hmm, let me think again...'

He feigned hard thinking.

'Yup,' he confirmed then, pronouncing the 'p' with a pop.

She smiled with relief and swallowed dryly. For some unknown reason she had been afraid of the answer. Not that there were any coded messages or classified information about the hygiene of the White House closets in these letters. But inwardly she knew they did say some things, things meant for him only, things she had difficulty admitting even to herself.

'So, Brick, darling, care to tell me how come this guy of yours has been so kind to send me a present then?' she asked in a voice that could sweeten kilos of lemons.

Jess sat down on the bridge, letting his feet hang loose over the water. 'Come on,' he motioned for her to sit next to him. 'I'll tell you about Aarif.'

* * *

><p><em>Aarif lit his cigarette and pointed at the glittering <em>__lights _below them. There was Kashmir, with its widespread carpet of flickering electrical fireflies in their feet. The city in all its evening glory from their watching spot on the hill. _

'_There,' Aarif tilted his head towards the city below. _

_There was no emotion in his voice and later on Jess would ask himself what it should've cost him. _

_'Eight fifty two a.m. It was a Saturday ___in October_,' Aarif continued. 'Leena had gone for the week to see her mother in Kashmir, and I stayed in Islamabad. I was waiting for the bus in Islamabad to go pick her up when it happened.'_

_Aarif concentrated on his smoke for a moment, then pulled a drag. _

_'When the ground starts shaking, the only thing you can think of is your family. Where they are, what they're doing right now. You think, are they scared?... The worst part is when you realize they are. The ground keeps shaking. It splits you in pieces but you can't do anything. Then survival instincts take over. Even in the hardest moments survival somehow takes the best of you, we're its slaves.'_

_Aarif paused again and when Jess met his dark eyes, he recognized regret._

_'Then, everything stills. There is the sound of car alarms. Ambulance sirens, people calling out their families by name, but all this is a blur into your ears because you realize you're alive and she may be dead. All I could think about was I should've caught the earlier bus. I should've been there. With Leena. For some reason I missed that bus and my life was spent that morning. I don't know why, I guess there's something I have to do before my time's up.'  
><em>

_Jess observed the man beside himself and suddenly Aarif seemed older. He never asked him about his age, but Jess assumed his companion was about thirty. Maybe thirty-five. Sometimes, when he got gloomy, Aarif would appear older, as if another face would emerge from the inside of this extraordinary, extra controlled and extra wise personality he had. He seemed very aware of the world outside, but always managed to keep his self-control. _

_Maybe Fitzgerald was right, Jess thought that night on the hill, looking down at night Kashmir. Maybe we were born old. But not in appearance, only with old souls. Maybe it took a soul a couple of decades to fully emerge and it faced death in full conscience, with nothing more left to reveal. _

_'The greatest loss is what dies inside us while we live.', Norman Cousins' words emerged in Jess' mind._

_Aarif nodded, indicating Jess had unconsciously voiced this last thought._

'_Aarif?' he said then.  
><em>

_Aarif turned to look at him._

_Jess pondered a little before continuing._

_ 'Though you may well regret it every remaining day of your life, I think it's a good thing I met you. One of the best that happened to me lately. I'm happy you didn't catch the early bus that Saturday.'_

_Aarif observed him for a couple of seconds, then nodded and turned back towards the flickering lights of Kashmir below them._

_ 'Good. But no way I'm doing hugging, okay?'_

_Jess smirked and lit a cigarette. _

_'Okay.'_

* * *

><p>Jess threw a stone in the water as if to mark the end of the story. They stood in silence for a while, Rory processing the information, Jess gathering the courage to continue.<p>

She was faster.

'He sounds like a man of wisdom.'

'True. He's my Yoda.' Jess assured with a smirk.

She made a grimace that said '_Do you always have to be a smartass?'_.

Jess threw another stone in the water, watching it skip a couple of times before sinking down.

'He's been through a lot,' he added seriously.

They kept silent for a while.

'Don't you think Aarif would rather you didn't tell me about his wife?'

'I haven't told you about his wife,' Jess shrugged.

That caught her a little unprepared.

'But wasn't Leena his...'

'I told you about _him_. Not many things can say so much about a person as the way they handle a major loss in their life. Aarif is the last person who would get personal and tell his story to a stranger in a bar.' Rory's eyes narrowed a little. 'But we're not in a bar,' Jess finished wisely.

The look in her eyes said '**_Really_**?'

'Plus you're not a stranger,' he added and rubbed the back of his neck. 'He got you a gift, remember? He doesn't go around getting people gifts,' he added, lifting a pointfinger for emphasis.

'Jess... what exactly have you told him about me?'

'Not much.'

Rory crooked up an eyebrow in disbelief. _Well, what is much?_

'What?,' he put his hands up in defense.

'I don't believe that. There must be _something_ that you told him,' she insisted.

Jess kept a stubborn face.

For some reason Aarif had decided he liked Rory. And Aarif didn't just go around liking people. Jess wasn't sure Aarif liked _him_, for instance.

Aarif seemed to believe Jess still got something for her. Jess didn't manage to prove him wrong for the two years they spent as traveling companions. Aarif had said, _'Once a man has won a woman's love, the love is his forever. He can only lose the woman'_. Jess had laughed. A lot. It was so damn true, that it was almost entertaining.

'Believe what you want. I had my say.'

Jess shrugged sulkily and for a moment he was eighteen again - pissed off at the world as a whole and then with each of its inhabitants in particular. For some reason she found that amusing and gave him a grin.

'Noted. I will. So, young Jedi, what does your Master have for me?'

* * *

><p>More than a thousand miles away, in a motel room somewhere in Colorado, a newly-married couple was having dinner.<p>

'Here,' Luke said, placing a wide plate before his wife.

'I want you to say what you think about that. I'm thinking of including it into the holiday menu.'

Lorelai moved her eyes from the TV to her husband.

'What do you think they're doing?'

Luke raised an eyebrow and sat next to her, narrowing his eyes at the TV.

'I think Daeneris is getting even with her brother by letting Drogo's people drag him behind a horse.'

Lorelai rose a brow.

'I meant Rory and Jess,' she enunciated.

'Oh. You think they are doing something? Like in _together_?'

Lorelai just gave him a look.

'All right, all right. Look, you don't always have to worry about her. She has her head screwed on properly and, awkward as it may sound, so does he.'

Lorelai crossed her arms stubbornly.

'I'm not _worried_.'

Luke moved back an inch so he could judge his wife's expression fairly.

'Aah, right, you're dead curious and want to investigate. You'll have to wait. Now _eat_,' he said in a slightly imperative manner, observing her expression intently as she tasted the food.

Lorelai put a spoonful in her mouth and an expression of disgust appeared on her face. Luke's heart skipped a beat.

'You okay? Should I bring some water?' he asked worriedly, heading for the fridge and ready to save her life if necessary.

Lorelai took in the picture of worried Luke and burst into laughter. Luke watched her blankly for a few seconds and then made a dirty face.

'Very funny. Gilmore humour,' he rolled eyes and grabbed a beer from the fridge. When he came back to the sofa, half of the plate was empty and Lorelai taking care of the rest of the food.

'I assume it turned edible,' he suggested sulkily, though inwardly he felt a spring of satisfaction with the result.

_Not that there are many dishes in world cuisine, able to sate the appetite of a Gilmore,_ he reminded himself.

'Do you think they will get together, so that we'll have little half-blood grandchildren slash grandnephews?,' she inquired with a grimace.

Luke sat back next to her, stretched his legs under the the table and opened his beer.

'You're overthinking it. At least they should search for a closure, the story has drawn out for too long... Lorelai, what are you laughing at? Ours is different – we're grown up people who took it slow,' Luke insisted as she kissed his temple.

'So slow at times it went backwards,' she nodded in mock seriousness. 'Wasn't Jess going to Philly to meet some publisher or something?'

Luke shrugged.

'Last thing I know, he's staying a couple of days, sneaking around Rory pretending to be looking over the Diner for me.'

'Hm. Come on, let's play some _Cat Stevens_ CD's and play scrabble! Let me just pee and change into something more comfortable,' she said and stood up, perking a kiss on his cheek on the way.

Luke drank from his beer and closed his eyes, resting back on the sofa.

'Luke!' he heard from the bathroom. Her voice came out worried and pleading.

'What!' he jumped up immediately. 'Is it a cockroach?' he suggested, remembering last time she had freaked out over something in the bathroom.

'Luke... I think I touched a lump in my breast...' she almost whispered as she appeared at the bathroom door, meeting him closely.

'Oh...' Luke blinked a couple of times, processing the information. There Lorelai stood in front of him, looking panicked and unable to move. He made another step and put his arms around her, kissing the crown of her head. 'You sure?' he asked softly and a second later he could feel her head making a nod against his chest. 'Okay... you'll do something for me?' he continued. Two nods. 'Repeat after me: I won't freak out.'

Head shook. 'Too late,' she mumbled in his sleeve. 'You'll have to unfreak me first.'

Luke landed another kiss on top of her head.

'Then I will,' he said quietly.

She slightly pulled back so she could face him.

'My hero,' she smiled, relieved as she felt the initial panic wash away.

* * *

><p>Back in Stars Hollow, the younger Lorelai Gilmore was reading a book that was meant for her. <strong>The<em> Panchatantra<em>**. The letters were faded and due to the many times the book had been opened and closed some of the pages were folded at the corners.

**The Two-Headed Weaver**

**In a certain place there lived a weaver by the name of Mantharaka, which means "the simpleton." One day, while weaving cloth, the wooden pieces on his loom broke. He took an ax, and set forth to find some wood. He found a large sissoo tree at the ocean's shore, and said aloud, "Now this is a large tree. If I fell it, I will have wood enough for all my weaving tools." **

**Having thus thought it through, he raised his ax to begin cutting. However, a spirit lived in this tree, and he said, "Listen! This tree is my home, and it must be spared in any event, because I like it here where my body can be stroked by the cool breezes that blow in from the ocean's waves." **

**The weaver said, "Then what am I to do? If I don't find a good tree, then my family will starve. You will have to go somewhere else. I am going to cut it down." **

**The spirit answered, "Listen, I am at your service. Ask whatever you would like, but spare this tree!" **

**The weaver said, "If that is what you want then I will go home and ask my friend and my wife, and when I return, you must give me what I ask for." **

**The spirit promised, and the weaver, beside himself with joy, returned home. Upon his arrival in his city he saw his friend, the barber, and said, "Friend, I have gained control over a spirit. Tell me what I should demand from him!" **

**The barber said, "My dear friend, if that is so then you should demand a kingdom. You could be king, and I would be your prime minister, and we two would first enjoy the pleasures of this world and then those of the next one. For they say: _A prince who piously gives to others, achieves fame in this world, and through these good deeds, he will arrive in heaven, equal to the gods themselves_." **

**The weaver spoke, "Friend, so be it! But let us also ask my wife." **

**The barber said, "One should never ask women for advice. They also say: _A wise man gives women food, clothing, jewelry, and above all the duties of marriage, but he never asks for their advice. _And further: _That house must perish where a woman, a gambler, or a child is listened to. _And: _A man will advance and be loved by worthy people as long as he does not secretly listen to women. Women think only of their own advantage, of their own desires. Even if they love only their own son, still, he will serve their wishes._" **

**The weaver spoke, "Even though this is true, she nonetheless must be asked, because she is subservient to her husband." **

**Having said this, he went quickly to his wife and said to her, "Dear one, today I have gained control over a spirit who will grant me one wish. Hence I have come to ask for your advice. Tell me, what should I ask for? My friend the barber thinks that I should request a kingdom." **

**She answered, "Oh, son of your excellence, what do barbers understand? You should never do what they say. After all, it is stated: _A reasonable person will no sooner take advice from dancers, singers, the low born, barbers, or children, than from beggars. _Furthermore, a king's life is an unending procession of annoyances. He must constantly worry about friendships, animosities, wars, servants, defense alliances, and duplicity. He never gets a moment's rest, because: _Anyone who wants to rule must prepare his spirit for misfortune. The same container that is used for salve can also be used to pour out bad luck. Never envy the life of a king._" **

**The weaver said, "You are right. But what should I ask for?" **

**She answered, "You can now work on only one piece of cloth at a time. That is barely enough to pay for the necessities. You should ask for another pair of arms and a second head so that you can work on two pieces of cloth at once, one in front of you, and one behind you. We can sell the one for household necessities, and you can use the money from the second one for other things. You will thus gain the praise of your relatives, and you will make gains in both worlds." **

**After hearing this he spoke with joy, "Good, you faithful wife! You have spoken well, and I will do what you say. That is my decision." **

**With that he went to the spirit and let his will be known, "Listen, if you want to fulfill my wish, then give me another pair of arms and another head." **

**He had barely spoken before he was two-headed and four-armed. Rejoicing, he returned home, but the people there thought that he was a demon and beat him with sticks and stones, until he fell over dead. **

**And that is why I say: _He who cannot think for himself and will not follow the advice of friends, he will push himself into misfortune, just like the weaver Mantharaka. _**

**The_ Panchatantra_, book 5, story 8.**

* * *

><p><em>* Aarif is referring to the great earthquake in Kashmir in 2005<em>

* * *

><p><strong>Mood song, 'All I Need' by Matt Kearney<strong>


	5. Family Matters

_Disclaimer: I own nothing, the characters belong to the show and to Amy:)_

_Aarif's all mine, though:P_

* * *

><p>'<strong>To us, family means putting your arms around each other and being there.'<strong>

**Barbara Bush**

**Chapter 5: Family Matters**

'Tell me you're not watching _'Steel Magnolias_'. Turn it off or I will.'

Rory kept sitting on the sofa, staring blankly at the TV screen in front of her.

'You're evil and must be destroyed', she cited absentmindedly without moving her eyes away from the screen. 'I love that scene,' she added and grabbed a handful of popcorn from the bowl in her lap.

'Mother Nature's taking care of that faster than you could,' Jess cited back and made his way to the sofa to sit next to her. He leaned aside, elbow on his left knee, observing her face.

'Just please don't ask if I'm okay,' she mumbled while chewing popcorn. Jess cocked up an eyebrow.

'You're not,' he concluded.

She threw him a questioning look and he smiled defiantly.

'But you will be.'

She blinked a few times, blue eyes meeting brown. Jess moved his hand towards hers but drew it back before it had reached her. She didn't notice his change of heart, her eyes focused back on the screen where Shirley MacLaine and Olympia Dukakis were exchanging witty lines.

'You shouldn't be here, Ror. We should go to the hospital,' he said seriously, his eyes not leaving her face.

'What difference does it make if I come?' she asked dully as she met his look, her eyes a little wider, a little bluer... He had seen this look before, on a bus.

_This is my stop. _

_Okay. _

_You'll call me? _

_I'll call you._

He knew this look when he saw it now. It bore mostly disappointment, but also a little unspoken hope. It was the hope he wished he could keep.

'I'll be useless,' she added fadedly.

'Maybe,' he shrugged and took a pen and a receipt from the table. 'But it makes hell of a difference if you _don't_. Just being there means enough, I think,' he added, while writing on the back of the receipt.

As he finished writing, he handled her the small piece of paper. Rory took it as-a-matter-of-factly, one hand still playing with the unpopped kernels in the bowl. She narrowed her eyes a little as she read his familiar scribble.

_'If you were going to die soon and had only one phone call you could make, who would you call and what would you say? And why are you waiting?'_

'This sounds like something from a self-help book,' she rose a brow sceptically. When she met Jess' look, she bit her lip. '_Oh._'

It _was_ from a self-help book.

'Shall we go now?' Jess stood up and lifted the car keys from the table questioningly.

* * *

><p>Jess threw her an occasional look every now and then, just to register a total lack of change in expression. Rory embodied blankness itself. They had been driving for twenty minutes now and she hadn't said a word. Her eyes were directed outside, but she was not watching, rather staring at nothing in particular.<p>

Jess was aware that Lorelai junior was known to be almost as stubborn as her mother, who was one to outdo a whole barren of mules (which made for a lot of stubbornness overall). And now she seemed pretty stuck in that insensitive, non-emotional, so-not-Rory-like mode, making him suspect she had fallen into some kind of catatonia. He was prepared for angry burstouts, thrown objects, tears, he had especially feared tear encounters, but he was ready to handle a crying woman, was he not?

'_She's probably in denial..._ _right?,' _he debated inwardly._ 'She probably hopes that not going to the hospital would make the whole thing unreal_.'

He remembered their meeting in Hartford three years ago, when he went to her grandmother's house to give her _The Subsect_. She was definitely capable of a lot of denial.

He was still steering on the main road to Hartford as Bobby McFerrin's _'Don't Worry, Be Happy'_ started playing on the radio. Simple and almost prosaic, the words clang in his mind and with another quick glance at Rory he made up his mind. He drove to the next pull-off and pushed the brakes a little abruptly as he stopped the car aside from the main road.

The sound of the breaks and the bump as they stopped tore Rory from her thoughts and she took a firmer hold of the car door handle.

'Heck, Jess! What are you doing?.'

He killed the engine and swiftly got out of the car as she watched him in disbelief.

'Come on,' he opened the passenger door and waved a little impatiently.

Rory looked around, half expecting this to be a joke. However, Jess' look was unwavering, so she obeyed reluctantly and got out of the car.

He leaned in to turn the volume of the radio up, then got out and stood before her. Before she had time to speak, he took her hand in his and their fingers entwined. The movement, simple as it was, conducted warmth and goose bumps through her body and for a moment the thought he was going to kiss her took control over her pulse and breathing.

'We should've done this years ago,' he said almost in her hair as he pulled her closer.

Then she realized he was slightly swaying as if he was... _dancing_?

'Jess, what are we…'

He shushed her and the slight scent of aftershave and cigarettes tempted her to rest her cheek against his chest.

'The only sound I wanna hear from you right now is you breathing in and out,' Jess whispered as he continued gently swaying her in pace with the song.

There was something about being so close to him that had always felt too right to ignore and no matter how messed up words got them, physically being together was easy, bringing peace she didn't know she'd craved until she found it.

… _Cause when you worry  
>Your face will frown<br>And that will bring everybody down  
>So don't worry, be happy (now)...<em>

_There is this little song I wrote_  
><em>I hope you learn it note for note…<em>

Somehow the words had never sounded more truthful. Rory considered protesting and pulling away, but as long as it felt like that, it didn't matter what they were doing, she thought vaguely, closing her eyes.

Suddenly an image of Lorelai appeared in Rory's mind and an urge to see her mother this very second emerged. Rory broke contact, looking up at him.

Jess felt her pull back and immediately let go, regretting he'd acted so impulsively._ What were they, seventeen?_

'Hurry up,' she urged, 'I have to see mom!'

Then made her way back into the car, fastening her seat belt as soon as she got in. He followed and let relief spread through him.

'Took you long enough,' he smirked as he started the engine.

_Mission accomplished._

* * *

><p>'Where is she?' Rory asked as soon as she saw Luke.<p>

Luke saw Jess coming behind her, making a _'You take it from here'_ gesture with his hands.

Luke nodded towards a door to his right and opened his mouth to speak, but Rory rushed into the room before he could manage to form a coherent sound. He exchanged another look with Jess who just shrugged.

Then the younger man took his underslept uncle by the arm and bobbed his head towards the coffee machine in the wider part of the foyer.

'Come on, Luke, I'll let you buy me a snack. I'm starving.'

* * *

><p>Lorelai made her best to look composed as she watched her daughter's quick entrance. Rory all but thrashed into the room, stopping hesitantly as she saw her mother's stern expression.<p>

'Okay, I know you're mad at me and I agree I totally deserve it, must be punished with a stick and publicly despised,' Rory started exasperatedly, 'but can we please postpone it for a while, 'cause I really need to hug you right now?'

Either Lorelai's face got an even colder composure, or somebody just sucked all the air out of the room.

Rory stepped from foot to foot. _Okay, I deserve it then. But she can't be mad forever._ A quick glance at her mom and she regretted that last assumption. _God knows she can,_ Rory sighed inwardly. _So, what now? Plan B, playing dirty?_ She took a breath.

'Can you please at least listen to what I have to say and then you can throw me out, or even I will throw myself out so I can spare you the effort?'

Silence. Was that a fly under the curtain of the window to their left? Or was it rather a stink bug… yeah, definitely a stink bug. Never mind.

'Plus if you do, I won't go call grandma. Bet she doesn't have a clue her daughter is in a hospital, needing her infinite motherly care and support...'

_Bingo!_ By the slight change of expression on her mother's face Rory could tell she was right for assuming Emily wasn't posted up in the latest course of events. And thank the Lord, Rory thought, because she knew the last thing her mother needed right now was Emily's motherly care and support.

Lorelai's eyes were sizing Rory, a little parental pride popping out behind the indignation. _Smart move, offspring, cunning and vicious. Blackmailing me with Emily, who must you be taking after? _

'What took you so long?' Lorelai asked at last. Rory let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding.

* * *

><p>'What do the doctors say?'<p>

Jess and Luke were sitting on a bench in the hospital backyard, elbows leaned on their knees, coffees in hands.

'Nothing much.' Luke rubbed the back of his neck and let out a quiet sigh. 'As far as I understood, it could be anything from an innocent lump to cancer.'

Luke paused to take a slow breath before he pronounced the last word. Jess stared at his coffee for a while.

'You know I got you, right?' he asked, feeling a little uncomfortable. He always did when it came to showing Luke appreciation. 'Whatever it is, I got you.'

Luke nodded.

'Yeah… thanks, Jess.'

He tapped Jess' arm without looking at him.

Jess didn't search for his uncle's eyes, knowing that if there, tears in a man's eyes are best if not ever seen. There was something so private about being worried about the woman you love, Jess wasn't even sure he was allowed to be sitting on this bench at this very moment. But then again, he couldn't think of any other place he could possibly be.

Somehow they had managed to establish a relationship based on very little heart-to-heart talk, readily welcomed by both. Luke had been more of a father to Jess than anyone had ever tried to and Jess hoped that, even without saying it, he had managed to show his uncle that all he knew about family, he had learned from him.

When he first told Aarif about Luke, Aarif seemed a little surprised. _You must feel a very unusual sensation_, Aarif had mused, _if it's not indigestion, I think it may be gratitude_.

When Luke and Jess got back to Lorelai's room, Luke hesitated as he placed his hand on the door handle. Jess noticed his uncle's discomfort and smirked.

'Come on, it's so quiet inside that the worst that could've happened is Lorelai cushioned her, but I promise we'll be faster and get out before she gets to us,' Jess quipped.

Luke shook his head and opened the door before Jess had finished. The picture they found as they entered was unexpected, to say the least.

'Oh my God!' Luke exclaimed, freezing at the door.

'Oh my God!' Lorelai jumped in the bed, reaching for her pajamas.

'Jeez…' Jess turned right back and went out of the room, shaking his head in disbelief.

'Wow…' Rory bit her lower lip and put her mobile down, starting to button up her shirt.

'Luke…' Lorelai started, but he didn't let her finish.

'I don't wanna know; let's just pretend it didn't happen. I'll…' he cleared his throat, 'I'll be outside.'

Then went out.

When Rory went outside a minute later, she saw the two men leaning against the opposite wall, staring blankly.

'Okay, let me explain, eh?,' she approached them. 'What you saw in there,' she blushed a little as she felt Jess' gaze travel south from her collar line 'wasn't… well, actually it _was_ what you thought, but let me just… Jess, can you stop staring?'

Jess jerked a little and blinked a couple of times.

'Sorry. Go ahead.'

'So,' she continued, 'we decided to take pictures of our breasts so that if any of us has to undergo a mastectomy, we would have a vivid memory of what they used to look like… A memory that's gonna be imprinted in your minds, too, obviously,' she gave them a radiant smile.

She didn't get response, so she went on,

'It's a girl thing, okay?' she sighed with defeat. 'Plus I think you've seen enough women in bra so what you saw in there shouldn't be a lifelong trauma for you…'

Still no answer. Boys were so predictable when it came to female anatomy.

'We could use some food,' she finished meaningfully.

'I got it,' Luke spilled and started towards the exit.

'Coming with ya,' Jess added almost simultaneously and followed closely.

'_So predictable,_' Rory shook her head, watching itheir fast retreat.

* * *

><p>'You first,' Luke said as he stopped before the door for a second time this afternoon.<p>

It was getting dark outside and the last rays of light were squeezing in through the windows to their back, throwing their shadows long over the corridor tiles.

'You must be kidding me.' Jess rolled eyes and moved a paper package from one arm to the other so he could open the door, pushing Luke aside as he made a quick entrance.

'Oh, here comes the food!' Rory clapped her hands in delight and jumped up from her mom's bed where she had been lying next to Lorelai. 'Thank God!

'You can call me Jess,' Jess smirked as he left the packages on the bedside table.

Rory made a dirty face but didn't bother to answer, busy unpacking the food.

'Look, mum, they got nachos, too!'

'My heroes,' Lorelai grinned and sat up in the bed, moving to the side and tapping the sheets for Luke to sit. 'We're watching George Carlin, wanna join?' she turned to Jess as Luke sat on the edge of her bed.

Luke rubbed his neck a little uncomfortably.

'Actually, we met a nurse before we came in and she told us we should, eh, leave you rest.'

'But I'm not tired, I don't wanna rest!' Lorelai protested. Rory exchanged a slight nod with Luke and made her way to the door.

'I'll go talk to the nurse, see if they'll let me stay overnight, okay?'

'Yeah, grasshopper. Okay.' Lorelai nodded, pouting a little.

'Here,' Luke opened the bag he was holding and put a couple of magazines in her lap. 'I know you'll make good use of these.'

'Come here,' Lorelai opened her hands for a hug and Luke submitted, practically half-covering her as he did so.

As Jess stood beside the window, he thought that maybe, just _maybe_, Lorelai Gilmore Senior was not an intolerably annoying person and his uncle might be happier with her than Jess had ever seen him before marrying that crazy, rambling, full of life woman.

Lorelai would be fine... he hoped. Rory would crumble if anything happened to her mom. He slowly headed for the door, giving Lorelai a nod before granting her some privacy with Luke. He almost bumped into a doctor who was just walking into the room.

'Sorry,' Jess mumbled. The man in the white coat nodded briefly and entered the room, closing the door after himself.

Jess' eyes made a quick assessment of the corridor which was empty saved for a thin figure to his right. Rory was sitting at the end of a coach, her hands resting in her lap as she kept looking blankly at an indefinite point ahead. Jess figured she must have spoken to the doctor. He approached and crouched in front of her.

'Rory?' he asked quietly, his voice coming out dry.

For some reason he had always felt extremely protective of her and seeing her hurt still caused him to ache almost physically.

He had told himself that he didn't come back from California earlier that summer, seven years ago, because he didn't want to mess with her head. But the truth was he didn't want to be there to see the pain he had inflicted. Because if he saw her ache, he would ache. And because if she didn't forgive him, he'd never be able to forgive himself. Aarif had told him that '_Love is meeting the other person halfway on the road to forgiveness_.' Funny thing how his road was the one harder to walk when it came to forgiving himself. It took him long enough to do that, but once he had, it felt easier to compromise. He had gone his half of the way. But had she? It surprised him a little to find that it didn't matter anymore, because he knew he would always search to find a way back to her and even when she wasn't close enough to be in sight, she would be in his mind, in the letters she sent, reappearing over the pages of his book, over the pages of any book at all.

'Rory. Look at me.'

His voice was gentle. She did so and their eyes locked. He talked to her, promised her it would all be fine, stroked her hair, kissed the top of her head and rubbed her arms comfortingly, all that in his head, without moving at all, staying still while letting his thoughts emerge in his eyes unabridged this time, hoping this eye lock would get the feeling through without the words needed. As he felt the moment passing, he smiled and gave her a nod. She nodded in response, her eyes deep blue, a smile rising up in the corners of her lips.

'It's not cancer, Jess,' she said, her smile growing into a wide beam. Before he could produce a proper reaction, Jess felt her arms wrap up around him, a scent of vanilla and orange coming along with the relief. 'It's not cancer.'

It took him a while to react and reconnect his hands with his brain. When he did and put them around her, he felt her squeeze him a little in response. That had always been one of the best things about her, the ability to express such pure joy and share it without feeling uncomfortable or exposed.

'I have to go to mum,' she said then and pulled back. As she stood up, he became aware he was still half-kneeling in front of the coach.

He stood up and watched as she made a few hasty steps towards Lorelai's room, turning at the door just before she went in.

'You'll be here?,' she asked.

'Yeah, I'll be here,' Jess nodded, sticking hands deep into his pockets. Rory smiled and disappeared behind the door.

* * *

><p><strong>Mood song – 'I got you' by Leona Lewis<strong>


	6. Step One

_Disclaimer: I own nothing. Only Aarif's mine :)**  
><strong>_

* * *

><p>'<strong>Maybe all one can do is hope to end up with the right regrets.' <strong>

**Arthur Miller**

**'I find it amusing. Men are supposed to be made out of steel or something.'**

**Steel Magnolias**

**Chapter 6: Step One**

Jess had been torn between driving and watching Rory sleep for almost twenty minutes now and he nudged himself mentally to watch the way more carefully so they didn't end up in a side ditch. He focused on the road and his forefinger started beating in time with the big band song playing on the radio.

_Birds flying high, you know how I feel;  
>Sun in the sky, you know how I feel…<em>

Did her hair have a lighter shade of gold? It fell in free waves over her shoulders today and he was pretty sure he glimpsed a couple of honey colored locks when she passed by a window and it caught a sunbeam. _Insignificant details_. There were tons of these when it came to her, but he'd always been ridiculously obsessed with them.

* * *

><p><em>Jess rubbed a sweat drop off his forehead and walked into the room, finding a final resort away from the scorching Quetta sun. As he sat on the table and opened his laptop, pretending not to be in a hurry, he thought about taking a glass of water, but decided against it, too busy hypnotizing his email inbox to load faster. There was an empty cigarette pack on the table and he took it in his left hand, fumbling with it absentmindedly.<em>

_It was a Monday morning and he knew a new letter had to be waiting for him, like it had been every Monday morning for the last three months. Three and a half, but he was not obsessed with numbers. Sometimes he wondered how her day had been, what she had been doing before she sat and wrote to him, was she drinking her umpteenth cup of coffee while writing..._

_Every Sunday night (because it was still Sunday in Hartford with a time difference of about eight hours) Rory wrote to him. Her letters had become a part of his everyday routine Monday mornings, like getting a shower or checking his notes before visiting this funny little bookshop in Quetta where he had managed to find a few copies of Hemingway's short stories. It would be fair to admit he didn't really think about it a lot - _why_ she was doing this, what it all _meant_, did it mean anything at all in the first place… All of this seemed irrelevant, now that he was too far away from the States for this to matter. All he knew was he had accepted it for a normal course of events to read her letters second thing in the morning. First thing was go post some letters for Truncheon, plus all of the notes he had already used, he sent to Luke (so if anything happened to his laptop here, he would have the most important stuff back home… _home_? Huh, okay then, this place ambiguously reminiscing of home). _

_As his mailbox finally opened he started reading avidly but it only took the first two sentences to figure this letter was different. Was she… was she saying _goodbye_?._

_The empty cigarette pack in his left hand had reached the size of a matchbox, threatening to disappear completely between his fingers. _

'_Okay, then, Gilmore, have it your way!' _

_He let the miniature pack fall on the table and stood up, making a few steps. The room seemed to have shrunk in the last couple of minutes. He walked over to the kitchen sink and poured himself a glass of water. In a way he had known this was coming. Now that he thought of it, he was a little surprised she had waited for so _long_ before saying what she had written in this last letter._ Last letter_, the words recoiled in his mind. _

_Why didn't he write back? Would she ever accept the explanation he could offer? Did she realize how little was enough for him to go back to hoping, to thinking and, for fuck's sake, _planning_? A couple of letters, that's all it took. She was messing with his head, she'd always had. Like he was eighteen again and all he had managed to build up in his life so far got small and insignificant compared to the chance to see her again – drinking her coffee, reading a book, laughing at his jokes or even simply tying her shoe. Why did she always have to pull his leash? So that if she fell into another boyfriend gap, he would be around to cover it up? He nudged himself mentally, because he knew that was not the case. And as he threw a glance at his laptop, it occurred to him that the one thing worse than having his leash pulled was not having Rory at the other end. He tilted his head back and closed his eyes in concentration. When he opened them again the answer to the unspoken question that had shaped up in his mind had already settled and he reached the laptop with two brief steps. He was sure she had written her mobile in one of her letters and started searching through his inbox frantically._

'_Hey, 'ts up?' he blurted as soon as he heard her pick up. _

_She didn't answer and somehow that told him he hadn't rung a wrong number and it was her at the other end. Suddenly he was out of words and just stood there, in the middle of the motel room, listening to her breathe. It was downright ridiculous, calling her and staying dumb, not to mention it was creepy and disturbing. It had to be after midnight in Hartford._

_The silent pause stretched for a while._

'_I came over 'The Reluctant Fundamentalist' in a bookshop around here, Quetta, that is, and I decided to give it a try,' he blurted at last. _

_As he talked, he moved towards the bookshelf and took the book in his hand, smiling appreciatively.  
><em>

'_Hamid makes you have second, if not even third thoughts. I read it twice already but I think I may give it another look these days,' he continued, putting the book back among the others, his eyes darting to a thin booklet named 'Howl'. He couldn't name the exact moment when he had packed this small pamphlet he had stolen… _borrowed_ from her years ago… for the second time. But it was there when he started unpacking._

'_What do you want, Jess?' her voice was bitter. Jess' hand froze on 'Howl'. Seven years after he had taken it from its owner, it was still one of the most important belongings he had ever had. He felt a spur of courage and suddenly he knew what he wanted. He wanted to _know_. He was tired of guessing and doubting, it was high time he got some questions answered._

'_Okay, then, thanks for calling.' He heard her voice come from what seemed like a really long distance, cutting in his thoughts again._

'_Wait, don't hang up,' he pleaded exasperatedly. She didn't and he asked the question that had lingered his mind ever since he got her first letter. 'Why did you write to me?'_

_He held a breath, waiting. _

'_What?.'_

_He repeated,_

_'Why did you...'_

_'Why did I write to you, are you joking?! Why did I, really, that's what I've been asking myself too and, you know what? No answer occurred to me in the last three, no, wait, three and a half months, but who's bothering to count anyway? So I'm cutting it. Oh, and I'm also cutting this conversation – bye, Jess.'_

_As he listened to her raging outburst, he felt his heart get lighter with every second. When she said she was cutting the conversation, he tried to say something but he was too damn deliriously _happy_ to be able to speak. She hung up and Jess stood still, smiling ridiculously in front of his tiny book collection. Then he started laughing. It was sincere, full of relief laughter, one he hadn't experienced in a long time. She didn't have to say anything more; her rage when he asked why she had written those letters told him all he needed to know. When his laughter subsided, he rubbed his eyes, shaking his head. God, he had missed her ranting and for the first time in years he didn't feel guilty for missing her. His eyes wandered over the room, pausing on his laptop. He felt a sudden need to write to her, to tell her something, anything. She would still be there to listen, he hoped._

* * *

><p>Rory opened her eyes and blinked a few times. As her eyes gradually got used to the semi-darkness in the car, she made out Jess' outline next to her. She was a little surprised to see him tap in time with the rhythm of the song, a little smile sneaking in the corners of his pressed lips. He always pressed his lips like this when he tried to keep a smile. She was never sure if he wanted to keep it from being seen or just wanted to make it last longer.<p>

_Sleep in peace when the day is done, that's what I mean_

She smiled, too, remembering another time he was driving and smiling like this, in his '_I feel good but I'll deny it if you ask_' way. It seemed a hundred years ago, that time when they were in high school and she was supposed to tutor him while he pretended to need tutoring to only steal some time with her alone. That night in the car when they talked about their future plans or the absence of such, in his case, was the first time she felt her heart skip a beat during some of their eye contests. A hundred years ago, really. But some of it still felt the same.

_It's a new dawn,  
>It's a new day,<br>It's a new life,  
>It's a new life,<br>For me…_

Jess stopped the car and looked at the thin figure beside him. Rory stood curled in the passenger seat, but she wasn't sleeping anymore. Instead, she was looking back at him with a tiny cryptic smile on her lips.

'I knew something was burning my temple, and here I thought you were sleeping,' Jess said, a little surprised to find her awake and concentrated.

'It seemed you were the one dreaming. You hardly ever blinked half the way here,' Rory pointed out.

'You've been spying on me, then,' he concluded. 'I didn't blink in order not to fall asleep and trash us into a side ditch, provided that you weren't your usual talkative self while sleeping.'

'You got your James Dean hair back; it's much shorter now, though,' she noted pensively, her eyes roaming his face dreamily… _sleepily_, he corrected himself. At first he failed to follow her thought, immersing into the turquoise abyss her eyes offered. As he caught up in the dialogue and his eyes set back on the road, he rose a brow questioningly.

'Feeling nostalgic?' he teased with a smirk.

Rory didn't answer for a while, pondering over the answer. It was actually a more generalized version of that question she had in her head for a while now, trying to answer it herself. Was what she had been feeling for him recently only nostalgia over a first love or was it something more? She was attached to him, of course, he was a friend that had been in her life for a while and left a deep trace. But what she felt as she watched him tilt his head with his sideways look, smiling with his trademark smirk, was something quite different from friendly feelings for an old friend. It did something to her, making her feel alive, awake… intent. She remembered something as she watched him. It was what Aarif had written in his small sharp handwriting after the story of the two-headed weaver. _What you can find here, you can find everywhere else. What you can't find here, you can't find anywhere else._

'_If you don't know what it is that you want, you'll never find it. It's all in the mind,_' came into her head. Was that Aarif or were that her own thoughts? She was pretty sure he hadn't written these in the book…

It must have driven Jess mad to have such a companion, whose words came out in the shape of proverbs and who seemed to always have a good point, better than your own, in most cases. But it was nevertheless an addictive presence, the one of this man that tricked you into thinking out of the box, surprising yourself with thoughts that you wouldn't believe belonged in your own head. She could tell why Jess found himself lucky to know Aarif. Jess…

And now, at this very moment, she knew what Aarif meant and why he chose that story for her. How had this man she hadn't even talked to managed to figure her out better than she had managed to figure out herself? Mystery, it was all a mystery. She made a mental note to thank Aarif one day. Strange man, he reminded her of some Pakistani psychology version of doctor House.

She became aware they had been staring at each other and it was high time one of them said something. Before she had produced a sound, a loud knock on the car window abruptly pulled her out of her meditations. She jumped into place, startled, only to see Taylor waving energetically and saying something she failed to grasp at first.

'Come on, Rory, we've been waiting for you,' the words came into her ears, traveling what seemed a great distance to her brain. She managed to command her body to get out of the car and took Taylor's hand mechanically. They had already made a few steps when she stopped and turned back. Jess was out of the car. He was leaning on the hood and fiddling with a cigarette, indicating he was gonna wait there.

'… and everyone's already there,' Taylor continued his monologue, dragging her after himself.

'Whoa, wait a minute, who's where?' Rory asked, bemused.

'I told you twice already, are you even listening to me?' the older man snuffled. 'I've been waiting in front of your house for ages, just so you know,' he added, as if that explained his incoherent behavior.

Rory decided to let it go and just see what happens next. She was too tired to protest, so she simply followed where he lead. When they stopped, she realized they had reached the bridge but, unlike other times, there were plenty of people there, almost everyone she knew in Stars Hollow. They were holding flame lanterns in their hands and Sookie approached Rory, holding one, too.

'Hi, dear. Here, this one's for you.'

Sookie gave Rory the lantern and winked. Taylor cleared his throat and stepped ahead, preparing himself for one of his speeches.

'Citizens of Stars Hollow. Rory. We are gathered here tonight to make a bundle of friendship, hope and faith and send this bundle up like a message to our beloved friend Lorelai Gilmore, respected citizen of Stars Hollow, co-owner of the Dragonfly Inn and also known to be the mother of Rory Gilmore. We want to wish her to get well soon. Here, Lorelai, this is for you.'

As he finished his speech, Taylor took a lantern from Sookie and hung it up. Rory watched as it flew slowly, following its curved course towards the sky. As her look lowered, she saw many other lanterns making their way up, zigzagging slightly as they rose up in the ink-colored sky. _Thank you_, she mouthed as she met Sookie's eyes.

Rory touched Taylor's sleeve and smiled. Taylor took her hand in his and closed his eyes.

'Rory, whatever happens with Lorelai, you still got us,' he sighed appreciatively.

'Thanks, Taylor. Actually, mom's fine. I just came from the hospital, it's not cancer.'

Taylor's eyes opened and widened for a second and next thing she knew, he was making his way through the crowd and saying:

'She's fine, everyone, it's not cancer!'

And in a couple of minutes everyone was going somewhere, people tapping her shoulder and excusing themselves because they had something to do. One little boy even gave her an indignant stare which she read as 'I missed my _Star Wars_ episode and she's _fine_?'

Taylor was gathering some stuff from the ground, shaking his head pensively. Rory watched as everyone around her seemed to have some button switched on and chuckled. Someone else in her place might have thought it rude that people were only supportive when they thought someone was dying. She thought it was just who they were, it was Stars Hollow and that's just how its citizens functioned.

'See you, sweetheart, I'm so happy Lorelai's fine,' Sookie said sweetly and gave her a hug before leaving. As she was left alone, Rory looked up and smiled – some of the lanterns were still up and the sight was worth remembering. She shrugged and hung her lantern up, too, watching it rise towards the others.

'Typical, eh?' a voice behind her said just as she turned.

Her grin widened as she saw Lane a step behind.

'Pretty much, yeah,' Rory nodded. 'It was nice, anyway. And beautiful. Definitely beautiful,' she reasoned and grinned.

Lane chuckled and together they started for Rory's house.

As they reached the backyard, Lane stopped and went along the sidewall of the house in a spy-like fashion, sneaking her head behind the rose bush. Rory watched her for a second and then followed.

'What are you looking at, again,' she asked her friend in a low whisper.

'He's here, no, wait, HE'S HERE?.' Lane answered back in a theatrical whisper, making a gesture towards the porch and the man who was sitting on the steps, talking on his mobile.

Rory raised her eyebrows and also peered behind the bush. Jess was probably talking to Matt or Chris, because he mentioned Truncheon once or twice.

'Why didn't you tell me you were with your James Dean in the hospital?' Lane asked quietly, but pointedly.

Rory shook her head and made a dirty face. '_My_ James Dean? Come on, we have to stop this. We're not seventeen anymore, Lane.'

'But you are,' Lane sighed dreamily. 'He's Zac Efron and you're what's-her-name and you're totally kissing on a balcony!'

Rory quirked a brow.

'Plus I'm bored,' Lane rose her hands in defense. 'Look, I'm not moving until you fill me in with the story,' she said stubbornly.

'Lane...' Rory began pleadingly, 'I'm starving. I have to eat something fat and greasy or I'll faint. You want me to faint? Of course you don't, so come on, let's eat.

'I thought we passed through this conversation already, you won't sneak out without telling me the whole story. In _excruciating_ detail. Look, Rory, I'm a married woman with two kids. You _have_ to understand that without some new gossip all I'm doomed to hear about is Kirk's new collection of shovels... He's into gardening now,' Lane added meaningfully.

'Oh.'

'Yeah. Back to the point, is the rebel without a cause your boyfriend already?' she asked just as Jess appeared next to them from the other side of the bush.

He stood silent for a second, processing the last sentence his ears caught.

'_Jess_, what a surprise to see you here,' Lane exclaimed in such a high timbre that she could probably communicate with dolphins.

Rory blushed fiercely at Lane's nonsense.

Jess let a little smirk pull up the ends of his lips.

'Huh, you surely did seem surprised to see me a minute ago when I was sitting at the porch. Guess I must be the star of tonight's _Stars Hollow Unexpected Encounters_ show.'

Did they really think he couldn't hear them? The _whole_ time? This funny town was anything but loud, especially at this time of day. At some point he could swear he heard the grass growinig. Then, thankfully, his mobile rang and Matt took his attention away from nature's miracles.

'Okay,' Lane gave up, 'I should go.'

'Lane,' Rory started, but Lane was already hurrying away through the front yard.

Rory stepped from one foot to the other uneasily.

'Weird,' she said a bit apologetically, her eyes focused on the tips of her shoes.

Jess smirked fully this time. 'Not so weird.'

She looked up at him and suddenly she didn't feel ashamed. What was weird, really? This was Stars Hollow, weird classified a whole new scale here. They stood like this for a while, smiling at each other a little sheepishly.

'I feel like it's Christmas,' Rory said.

'In just seven months and a half it will be,' he elucidated with mock seriousness. 'Sure Santa has special gifts for you, little princess, for keeping the Christmas spirit alive through the whole year,' he quipped.

'It's just I have this feeling that something good is gonna happen,' she shrugged a little shyly.

'Huh! I bet you do.'

He intended to ask what that thing was when she made a step towards him. He narrowed his eyes. She took another step closer. He felt every muscle in his body tighten and his brain set up an alarm his feet refused to obey.

If everyone was not doing anything until they were sure they wouldn't be wrong to, the world would soon come to an end, with nobody doing anything at all. Sometimes you just had to shoot blindly.

Rory made a tiny step forward so that their feet aligned. Nothing in Jess' expressionless face gave a hint what he thought about her sudden spur of the moment courage. She slowly raised her hands to the point they leveled his face and gently trailed its outlines with her fingertips. She acted cautiously, for some reason afraid she might scare him if she cornered him, literally or metaphorically. She cupped his face in her hands, careful to leave him enough time to pull back if he wanted to, and slowly rose up on her toes until her eyes leveled his.

Jess' eyes stayed locked with hers, his last retarded traces of coherent brain function trying to make out what was going on. Everything was happening in slow motion – she had reached out for him, her fingertips draining away most of his ability to think or protest. When she rose to her tiptoes there was no doubt where this was going and what struck him was the deliberation that stood behind her moves. She was going to kiss him and that wasn't an impulsive act, it was something she had thought of in advance. What was that supposed to mean? Before he had time to ponder more, he felt her lips slightly touch his and at first all he managed to do was blink once and look away, breaking the hypnotizing eye contact with her now closed eyes, trying to catch his own thoughts. Their last kiss in Truncheon and its aftermath flashed through his mind and the dull painful feeling of betrayal he had felt back then, almost three years ago, made him freeze into place. But then the warmth of her lips chased the bad memory away, giving way to another thought - of how soft and light and tantalizing her lips felt against his and suddenly his mind shut down, his eyes closed and he gave way to the desire to once more feel the way he felt every time when they were so close.

As she felt him cringe at her touch, a cold shower poured over Rory and she paused, holding a breath against the corner of his mouth. Another brief moment and his lips caught hers, answering the kiss, relief washing the initial panic away. She let a little sigh escape her and he pulled her closer, deepening the kiss, causing her to wrap her fingers around his neck, rumpling the collar of his shirt in the process.

As they felt the kiss unravel and then come to an end, they stood with their foreheads resting against each other, waiting for their breathing to normalize.

'Marry Christmas,' Rory whispered.

* * *

><p><em>How did it get so late so soon?<br>It's night before it's afternoon.  
>December is here before it's June.<br>My goodness how the time has flewn.  
>How did it get so late so soon?<br>~Dr. Seuss_

* * *

><p><strong>Mood song, 'Bette Davis Eyes' by Kim Cranes<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Thanks to everyone who takes the time to review:):):)<strong>


	7. Laura Non Ce

_Disclaimer: I**'**m poor etc._

* * *

><p>'<strong>If there is something you must do and you cannot do it, you cannot do anything else.'<strong>

**Mignon McLaughlin, _The Neurotic's Notebook_, 1960**

**Chapter 7: Laura Non C'e**

God had spilled an ink-pot over. Dark blue took turns with darker blue clouds, spread like moth-eaten rags over the sky.

Lorelai Gilmore strode to and fro in her room, her hands fumbling with her mobile. It was dead silence all around. Depressing enough as it was to be alone here, Lorelai opened the window, hoping this would let some noise /_or smell, or any other sign of life existence_/ in. It was so quiet. Quieter than Stars Hollow /_was that possible, or have I suddenly lost my hearing? Oh, boy..._/

She gave her mobile a last look before making the decision to dial.

'Mom, everything okay?' Rory jumped up in her bed and turned the night lamp on as she saw 'Mom' flashing on the screen of her mobile.

Lorelai let out a relieved sigh. She hadn't lost her hearing, if not else.

'Everything's fine, grasshopper, are you willing to talk to your mommy even though she doesn't have cancer? It's so quiet in here, they don't even let us watch TV after midnight and I'm afraid I might be dying!'

'You just admitted you didn't have cancer, mom,' Rory smiled, adjusting her pillow behind her back. 'Do you mean you're _bored_ to death?'

'I'm in abstinence! Offspring, you and I, we're java junkies, we have to take our caffeine daily, otherwise we become a menace to society. An _evil_, _dangerous_ menace. Can you feel the menace in my voice?'

'Oh, I do. I do. Very menacing, your voice. But, mom, you know they have these rules for a reason. They can't run the tests if you're caffeine high.'

'Sure they can!' Lorelai insisted.

'Mom…'

'Rory… you're my only partner in my world domination conspiracy, thus I think the least you can do for your mother, the one who gave birth to you in _so much_ pain, raised you and divided each and _every_ morsel with you, including the tasty chocolate-flavored ones, is bring me some proper coffee, strong and pure.'

Lorelai made a short hopeful pause, but since she got no answer, she continued,

'No one will have to know, what do you say? Oh, please, Rory, they have cameras all over the place, I can't even get the crappy coffee they have from the machine in the foyer. I'm kept a hostage and they're watching me all the time... You _so_ have to come and get mommy some proper pure caffeine, from Luke's special supply in the shelf up to the left in the closet, please, please, _pleeease_!'

'Mom, are you asking me to bring some contraband caffeine in your hospital room?' Rory asked, amused.

'Will you?' Lorelai inquired hopefully.

Rory shook her head, holding back a chuckle.

'No.'

'I'm even okay with you bringing me the rough material, some nice smelling angel dust, it doesn't really have to be in a cup.'

Rory adjusted her pillow more comfortably and narrowed her eyes.

'Mom, what are you talking about?'

'Instant coffee, of course, what do you mean what am I talking about?'

'Oh. Okay.'

Lorelai stopped pacing the floor and held a breath.

'So, you'll get me some?'

Rory rolled her eyes.

'No.'

'Make a pro/con list?,' Lorelai tried.

'Ehm, no?'

'Tie some coffee beans to the leg of a pigeon and send the tiny little savior to my hospital room window?'

'Mom!'

'Put some coffee beans in the washing machine so that my sheets smell like it?'

Rory took a deep breath and then exhaled it harshly.

'I kissed Jess.'

'Get a barrel full of coffee and make it boil under my windo_what did you do_?.'

'I did. I kissed him. And I think I will, again.' Rory confirmed rather fast, so that she didn't lose courage.

Lorelai blinked a few times, processing the information.

'Oh. Right.' Her voice sounded a little down and Rory cringed inwardly. 'Is that what you want?' Lorelai asked, trying not to imply any good or bad attitude.

'_You'll know what to do as soon as you figure out what you want,' _her mother's words clang in Rory's head.

'Yes,' Rory confirmed and felt a relief at the realization this really was what she wanted.

'Okay,' Lorelei said quietly. Rory could almost see her mom's pouting lips. 'Mom?'

'Yeah, grasshopper?'

'I love you.'

'You're welcome.'

Rory closed her eyes and smiled.

'I have something more to tell you.'

'Oh, no, are you pregnant?' Lorelai exclaimed with a terrified grimace.

'What? No! God, mom, it wasn't like that… _whatever_, it's about Taylor and some flame lanterns.'

'Really? I _love_ flame lanterns!' Lorelai cheered, happy with the change of topic.

Rory let herself sink back in the sheets and pressed the mobile closer to her cheek, a grin on her face.

'So, there we park in front of the house last night, when Taylor comes and knocks on the car window to tell me that everyone has been waiting for me…'

* * *

><p>It was a bright new spring morning in Stars Hollow. It was breakfast time, so the Diner was quite busy, orders flying between the tables.<p>

Jess raised an eyebrow on his way to a table by the door, both his hands holding plates with eggs, bacon and fries.

'Look who hasn't been sleeping lately,' he muttered with a smirk as he passed by the younger Lorelai Gilmore, who had just entered the Diner, her eyes red and puffy.

'Coffee first, talking second,' Rory mumbled and headed for the bar plot.

Jess' eyes followed her and his smirk grew into a smile. This might not be home, but it hit close.

'Here,' he said as he poured her a cup of coffee and put it into her hands, leaning so he caught a better sight of her face, 'Shall I offer some rice with curds, really helpful if your head feels heavy. I also think Luke had ginger somewhere at the back.'

'Mmm,' Rory took in the nice revitalizing smell that came from the steaming coffee. 'Your mobile has been ringing. And I don't have a hangover,' she added and rubbed her temples. 'Did I mention your mobile is ringing?' Rory mumbled sleepily as she heard the beeping sound again.

'So I hear,' his expression visibly darkened, which sharpened Rory's attention waking her up a little.

'Aren't you gonna pick up?'

'Nope,' he answered, taking the pencil from behind his ear, ready to take another order.

_Sulky. _Rory's eyebrows furrowed.

'You know who's calling, then,' she reasoned.

It was like they were seventeen all over again. Something happens, he closes in and it's hard to get to him. It was so aggravating, yet so him.

'Can we talk about this later?,' Jess requested, his voice agitated and pleading at the same time.

'Okay,' she agreed a little reluctantly.

'Jess, my boy, just _look_ at you!'

'Fuck,' Jess muttered under his mouth and looked up at his mother. 'Not now, Liz.' he made an impatient gesture with the hand that was holding the pencil.

_Liz… _Last time Rory heard him address his mother, it was '_mum_'. Heavy with sarcasm, but yet… This was years ago, though.

'I've been trying to call you all morning, dear,' Liz said in what Rory guessed was her sweetest voice.

Jess cringed at the 'dear' part, but his mother was never one to notice insignificant details, so she continued.

'Where have you left your mobile? It doesn't matter, now that you're back from Iran,' she beamed.

'Pakistan,' Jess corrected.

'You look so grown up when you frown,' she reached a hand to ruffle his hair but he pulled back.

'What do you want, Liz?'

Rory looked from Jess to his mother and then back to Jess.

'Don't be mad, Jessie, I just want to talk to you, what is so strange about a mother wanting to talk to her so…'

Jess' face shifted. Rory knew that face. It indicated an oncoming storm, only to hide the inflicted pain. It had been a long time since she last saw it, but she still remembered it vividly.

'Stop it, okay?' Jess snarled and Liz made a step back.

_Stop it, just stop! I didn't invite you up here; you came on your own!_

Then something strange happened. Jess took a breath, ducked his head and rubbed his forehead with his knuckles. When he looked up again, his eyes weren't stormy anymore.

'Look, Liz,' he made a few steps towards his mother and stopped as he approached her close enough, so that he didn't have to speak loudly. 'I have some more work here, but when I'm finished, we'll talk, okay?' Jess asked quietly, his hand holding on to the pencil. Rory saw his knuckles go white, but his face looked composed.

Was that... was that Jess making a compromise?

_You, me… It is what it is._

_Another deja veux, huh? _Rory blinked as she watched him guide Liz towards one of the tables, telling her he would be done in about half an hour.

Her eyes searched his as he came back behind the bar, but he didn't look at her. If he had, he would see them sparkle.

* * *

><p>'Well, it's not like she hasn't had any boyfriends before,' Luke reminded his wife.<p>

Lorelai folded her arms.

'He's different,' she said stubbornly.

Luke's eyebrows rose up.

'And how is he so different from the others? I mean, except for being a pain in the ass...'

He paused, thinking.

'_And_ completely unsocial for the first couple of years of your acquaintance.'

He thought some more.

'They also managed to quite hurt each other... but couples do that... right?'

Lorelai stood silent for a while, watching her husband stir her tea and ponder over the arithmetics of a relationship.

'He's the only one who let her go,' she sighed. 'She decided to get him back on her own.'

'And that's a bad thing?'

Lorelai bit her lower lip. Luke's eyes flashed with understanding.

'Lorelai, are you… are you _jealous_? Of Jess?'

He was truly amused and wasn't trying to hide it.

'Come on, Lor. Really? Of Jess?'

'Say it one more time.'

'Let me just get this right, you don't think he'll kidnap her and take her to Iraq against her will... you don't, right?'

Lorelai sighed.

'Or maybe she'll decide to go on her own,' she shrugged helplessly.

'No one's gonna take Rory away from you,' Luke smiled. Then, something occurred to him,

'Remember the Dark Ages and then Rory's decision to go back to Yale?'

Lorelai's expression softened.

'I never thanked him.'

'I think now would be a good time,' Luke noted as he gave her the steaming cup of tea.

* * *

><p>'Luke and mom say 'hi',' Rory said as she entered the Diner. The lights were off so she waited until her eyes adjusted to the darkness.<p>

She found Jess sitting on a chair by the window, resting his chin on his knuckles.

She took a chair and drew it near his.

'Mind if I sit next to you?' she asked.

He shook his head no. She sat.

'How is she?' Jess asked without turning his eyes away from the small sheet of paper he was holding in his hands. Rory's eyes followed his and she tried to figure out what the sheet was. It reminded her of a bank receipt but she couldn't see it clearly in the semi-darkness.

'Mom's fine, she's in caffeine abstinence, but apart from that she's okay. She's coming home tomorrow.'

'Guess I'm gonna spare a couple of full coffee jugs under the counter, then,' Jess said and turned to look at her. She smiled at him and he smiled back. It was a faint smile, but it was genuine nonetheless.

'You're a generous man, Jess Mariano, you know that?' she asked and reached out to touch his cheek with her palm.

Jess closed his eyes at her touch and his features relaxed.

'You have no idea.'

'Jess…' she started but her voice faded. She wanted to talk to him about what was going on with him and Liz, but she didn't want to cross any borders, not yet, it was so soon, too soon to define any.

Jess opened his eyes and pulled aside. Rory's heart shrunk.

He stood up and drew his chair nearer so that it was aligned with hers. Rory blinked a couple of times and it took her a couple of seconds to realize he had put the sheet of paper in her lap.

'If you still have questions after you read it, you can ask,' Jess sighed and sank back into the chair, his legs stretched, his hands intertwined before his chest, eyes closed.

Rory looked at the small sheet, then back at Jess, and then back at the sheet again. It was a bank receipt for a transaction conducted in Hartford this afternoon. Subject: _Deposit on the mortgage of Liz Danes' house in the town of Stars Hollow, Connecticut_.

Rory put the receipt down in her lap and waited for a moment for her breathing to even.

'I think you did right,' she said softly. Jess straightened in the chair and shook his head.

'I did it to get rid of her, so hold back the fanfares.'

'Yeah, now that you say it, going with your mother to Hartford and helping her keep her home is the exact way I would imagine getting rid of someone.' Rory reasoned.

'It doesn't matter, anyway,' he echoed, a little shyly. He had always felt shy when he helped someone.

'What difference does it make after all?' Rory recited. 'Anonymity in the world of men is better than fame in heaven,' she continued, took his hand and put it around her shoulders, her head finding its old place against his chest.

'For what's heaven? What's earth? All in the mind,' Jess finished with her and wrapped his hand tighter around her. 'Bet you didn't imagine movie night like this.'

'Did you expect to hook up?' she teased.

He looked at her with the ghost of a smile.

'It's fine, really,' Rory said gently. 'You know what?' she looked up to search his eyes. 'Mommies are just big little girls. She's trying. In her own way.'

She could feel his heartbeat speeding against her cheek.

'_Jessie, my boy, is that you?'_

_For a moment Jess held the mobile in his hand like it was something that had just fell from an UFO and hit his head. _

'_Mom?' he managed to utter at last._

'_How have you been, Jess? I haven't heard from you for a while…' Liz's voice came from the other end of the line._

'_One year and four months,' Jess thought bitterly. 'Definitely my idea of _a while_.'_

'_I'm fine, mom. How's Doula?' he asked. Could she be calling to congratulate me for my birthday? But, then again, it was more than a week ago…_

'_Oh, she's just fine, she's running all about the house, trying to run the place down… talking of which… Jess, we're in a little bit of a problem here. I know I'm the last person you would want to lend money to, but T.J. is in the process of changing jobs and Luke helped us more than enough times and…'_

_I suppose I should hope that it turns out fine  
>But I hope that some sadness does cross your mind<br>And you'll look for me when you have crossed that line  
>Come one day<em>

Jess inhaled harshly and held a breath for a moment before letting it out.

'I can't wait for her,' his voice came out a little hoarse.

'Jess,' Rory whispered into his chest, 'you don't have to.' Then, squeezing his hand, 'You're doing just fine.'

Jess ducked his head and kissed the top of her head.

'Come on, let's take a walk,' he said and stood up.

She grinned and followed suit.

'You know, a couple of cherry trees have just blossomed, I'll take you there if you want, Kerouac.'

* * *

><p><strong>'Without a single thought, two hands collide and the world finally makes sense again.'<strong>

**Kayla Dawn**

* * *

><p><strong>Brooke Fraser ft. William Fitzsimmons – 'You can close your eyes'<strong>

**Reviews are pie:):):)**


	8. Of Mice and Men, Part 1

_Disclaimer: I own nothing but Aarif._

* * *

><p>'…<strong>The best laid schemes of mice and men<br>go often askew…'**

**Robert Burns **

**Chapter 8: Of Mice and Men, Part 1**

'Come on, Rory, hurry up, I have to recaffeinate immediately or I'll perish!'

'I hurry, mum. My heels are on fire, I swear,' Rory said, almost jogging after her mother.

'Oh, it's such a blessing to see you, my dear husband!' Lorelai grinned when she saw Luke behind the counter as she and Rory walked into the Diner. 'It's even nice to see _you_, Abdul Hameed,' she addressed Jess, who was wiping one of the tables.

'Always an honor,' he said and gave her a nod. Lorelai reciprocated the nod - a small sign of truce - at least until she had her first cup of Luke's special supply.

Rory watched her mother and Jess' interaction, intrigued.

At this moment Kirk stood up from one of the tables and approached, holding a couple of T-shirts in his hands. He was wearing a yellow T-shirt himself, one with a waving mouse on the front.

'Lorelai, Rory,' he began, 'Here, take a T-shirt, support the cause.'

'_Kirk_…' Luke gave Kirk a warning stare but the younger man didn't pay much attention.

'They deserve to know, Luke, it's their right as residents of Stars Hollow to be part of this.'

'And what is _this_, exactly?' Rory asked as they were inspected the T-shirts. They had slogans printed on them, like _'SAY A LITTLE PRAYER FOR A LITTLE FRIEND' _and _'REST IN CHEESE, LITTLE ORPHAN CREATURES'._

'Are you creating a sect, Kirk?' Lorelai inquired, suspicion tracing her voice.

_''RATS ARE PEOPLE, TOO'?' _Rory read another one.

Lorelai grimaced. _Mice cult, yuck._

'Kinky…' Rory shook her head in contemplation.

Kirk straightened up.

'It's the end of May,' he said meaningfully.

'Hmm, sorry, Kirk, doesn't ring a bell,' Lorelai shrugged and started for the counter, making Luke a sign to get them two coffees, big. As soon as they had sat on the high stools at the counter, two big steaming cups of coffee materialized on the plot in front of them.

'Oh, you've been expecting us, daddy Danes,' Rory teased with a grin.

Luke's face cringed.

'Can you not call me that? Please?'

Kirk approached them and started spreading the T-shirts on the plot.

'As I said, _it's the end of May_, official deratization week!' he elaborated fervently.

'Exterminating small squeaky creatures, eh?' Lorelai reasoned as she remembered the sight of Taylor going down in the town canalization system to set some rat poison last year.

Kirk's face shifted into a terrified grimace.

'Now that you say it like that, it sounds so _cruel_…'

'Okay, Kirk, that's enough, get back to your table,' Luke said, patience giving way to irritation in his voice. 'You've been talking about rats…'

'_Mice_…' Kirk corrected him in a high-pitched voice.

'…w_hatever_… all morning. This is a _diner_, if you haven't noticed, people come here to _eat_, and you talking about poisoned…'

'… set to sleep…'

'…_rodents_ is **not** what I would like to hear in my Diner. Is that clear, Kirk?'

'Luke Danes, sometimes I wonder if you even have a heart,' Kirk shook his head reproachfully. 'These little creatures need our moral suppo…'

'Hey, Kirk, need anything?' Jess cut in cheerfully, leaning his elbows on the counter, right next to Kirk.

Kirk's expression stilled.

Rory suppressed a chuckle. So, Kirk was still afraid of Jess. The town hoodlum image had its advantages, after all.

'Ehm, no,' Kirk answered in half-voice.

'Cause I saw you approaching the counter and I thought to myself, Jess Mariano, what must a decent customer do to get proper service here, you're a shame to your uncle, you should go and check what your friend Kirk needs _right away_.'

Jess' tone was as easy-going as it could get, but his eyes never left Kirk's, which made the older man quiver.

'It's fine, really,' Kirk eagerly ensured.

'If you need _anything_…' Jess made an indefinite gesture with his hand and Kirk winced.

'No. Nothing.'

'Okay, then. I must have got the wrong idea,' Jess finished with a friendly tap on Kirk's shoulder, which made him jump a little.

'If you excuse me,' Kirk lifted his hand for a stiff goodbye and started to leave.

'Don't forget these,' Luke said, nodding towards the T-shirts, a smug smile on his lips.

'So, you do have a withering stare, after all,' Rory said playfully as they watched Kirk retreat.

Jess shrugged.

'I learned it from someone, years ago. Thought it might be useful,' he leaned closer to her.

Rory's eyes stayed locked with his for what seemed like a couple of hours to Lorelai and Luke who were moving their eyes from one to the other and then back.

'Oh, come _on_, guys, get yourselves a room,' Luke suggested.

The spell was broken and Jess gave Rory a quick nod.

'Okay,' he shrugged and threw the mop he had been cleaning the tables with under the counter. 'Waiting for you upstairs,' he said, turning to Rory.

She nodded immediately, her face lit up with a grin.

She followed him upstairs, leaving Luke and Lorelai staring behind her.

'Yuck,' Lorelai shook her head with disgust. 'Is it going to be like this?'

Luke leaned over the counter,

'I can go upstairs, what do you say?'

'And do what, exactly? Look for a lost eight-year period? They're not seventeen anymore, Luke,' she sighed. 'Oh my God!' Lorelai tensed suddenly, as if remembering something. 'I'm way too young _and_ beautiful to be a grandma!' Lorelai whined in a thin voice.

'That's it, I'm going upstairs.'

* * *

><p>Jess and Rory stumbled over the stairs, torn between going up and just staying on the steps, enjoying each other's embrace.<p>

'Who taught you the withering stare?,' Rory asked impishly, her voice coming out muffled between kisses.

'Mm, come to think of it, I don't remember,' Jess chuckled, his stubble leaving tingly traces on her cheek.

Rory slapped him on the chest.

He mumbled something inaudible against the crook of her neck.

'Jess…'

'Yeah?' he answered while exploring the soft skin over her clavicle.

'We need to talk,' she said weakly, her fingers curling in his hair.

'Okay, talk,' he agreed absentmindedly.

'Jess!' Luke's voice carried from downstairs. 'Need help down here!'

Both Rory and Jess let out a heavy sigh. Their foreheads found each other until their breathing slowed down.

'I hate him,' Jess said.

Rory chuckled and brushed a chaste kiss on his lips.

'You don't.'

'Believe me, I _do._'

'_Jess_!' Luke's voice came again, more urgent this time.

'What the hell is he thinking? How old are we, sixteen?' Jess muttered under his breath. 'Coming,' he added louder, turning his head towards the base of the stairs.

Then he turned back to Rory,

'Anyway, what did you want to talk about?'

She studied his face for a second, then shook her head.

'It can wait.' _I guess._

Rory tucked her hair behind her ear.

'Come on, let's go before Luke comes with a copy of the _Bible_ and a baseball bat,' she sighed and pulled his hand as she started down the stairs. 'We can talk later.'

_About how I have to go back to work in two days. In New York. Eighty one miles from Philly. An hour and a half according to yahoo... _

* * *

><p>'Okay, then, you come and stay in New York. No, won't be a problem, Paris, you can stay for the week. Okay, we'll go find a place for you when I manage to get a spare afternoon from work… Yeah, so see you… no, you haven't told me about the rabbits. No, neither about the rats… I'm not sure I wanna hear about animal experimentation... Paris... This is it, I'm hanging up...'<p>

The sound of the door bell made Rory turn her head away from the receiver and she decided Paris' story about what medical students did to poor little rabbits could wait until her friend came in NY to fulfill her summer practice.

'Paris, there's someone at the door. We'll talk again later, okay? I'll call you when I arrive back in New… Jess?' she exclaimed just before hanging up.

'Hey.'

Jess was standing before her with his back-pack on his shoulder, a slightly guilty smile on his lips, his hands shoved in his pockets.

Rory put her mobile down and tried to stay cool. He was leaving. She just knew it. She bit a lip and tried not to hyperventilate over nothing.

'Matt called,' Jess said. 'I have to go to Philly. They're signing a new contract, I have to be there. May take a day or two, I don't know yet.'

He made a pause and studied Rory's face. His telegraphic summary of the situation had left her speechless for a few seconds. Jess took a hand out of his pocket and rubbed the back of his neck uneasily.

'Rory, say something?' It was half plea, half question.

'I hate your backpack,' she said then, completely out of line.

Jess lifted an eyebrow, waiting for Rory to elaborate, knowing her well enough to suspect her last statement could mean anything from _I like your suitcase better_ to _I want to stuff you into that ugly backpack and throw it off the Ben Franklin Bridge_.

'It means you leave so easy,' she said and her voice was small. 'Nothing keeps you in one place, you just pack up a few things and go.'

Jess blinked, seemingly lost for words.

'Sorry,' she shook her head, 'that was a little melodramatic.'

Jess didn't reply.

'_You're pretty short of words for a writer, are you sure you don't suffer from a bipolar disorder?_' Aarif had asked him shortly after they had first met. _'If your actions don't speak for you, it makes a pretty pathetic picture on the whole._'

Rory shifted uneasily.

'Okay, you're scaring me now,' she said with growing apprehension at his unreadable stare.

'What are you reading?' Jess requested then.

'Sorry?' She tilted her head to the side, unable to grasp the question.

'What book are you reading now?' Jess repeated.

'_The Gun Seller_,' Rory answered absently, 'Why?'

'Give it to me,' he requested impatiently.

'What? Why?'

'C'mon, give it to me, you'll get it back,' he insisted.

Rory narrowed her eyes. He was being serious.

She nodded reluctantly. Whatever had possessed him, she felt curiosity get the better of her.

Jess took his backpack off his shoulder and leaned against the door frame, waiting. In a couple of seconds she was back, said book in her hands.

'Stealing books from me is quite not the way I imagine a relationship, just so you know,' she told him with attempted humor while giving him the book.

'We'll exchange, then,' Jess countered as he knelt next to his backpack. He rummaged through it until he finally took out a small pamphlet.

'Here,' he stood up and handed her the small booklet with a sigh. Its cover was extremely worn, a little dog-eared at the edges, but apart from that it was still her long missing copy of '_Howl'_. Rory took it in her hands and blinked, inspecting the familiar scribble in the margins.

'Come here,' she said gently and reached for his sleeve, pulling him into a hug. Jess obeyed a little awkwardly, always clumsy when it came to expressing emotion. 'Good luck in Philly,' she whispered as cheerfully as she managed to make her voice sound, leaning in to him.

Jess pulled back a little so he could face her.

'You'll get Laurie back before the end of next week, okay?' he said, a little smile playing at the ends of his now pressed together lips.

'Okay.' _This is the remotest resemblance to a date I have ever had_, Rory thought absently. _I might have second thoughts on hating your backpack, though._

He had taken it. He had packed only a couple of things and it was there. All of these years, it had been there with him. The small booklet he had taken from her was now in her hands, years later, telling her she should give him a chance. To leave. So that he could come back. He always came back.

- end of part one -


	9. Of Mice and Men, Part 2

_Disclaimer: I disclaim all but Aarif.**  
><strong>_

* * *

><p>AN: This chapter aims to give some background information on Jess and Aarif's relationship, as well as Jess and Liz's. Hope you enjoy :)**  
><strong>

* * *

><p>"<strong>Expect the best, plan for the worst, and prepare to be surprised."<strong>

**Denis Waitley **

**Chapter 9: Of Mice and Men, Part 2**

Jess put the key in the keyhole and paused. He could turn around. Bail. A silent retreat nobody but he himself would have to witness.

_July 29, 2009 _

_Quetta, Pakistan_

'_What is it with boys and their mothers?' Aarif asked while they were waiting for their lunch in the local resemblance of an inn. _

_Jess was typing on his laptop with an expression that implied he was sulkier than usual. _

_Aarif was casually twirling a cigarette between his fingers while leaning back in his chair, lifting its two front legs off the ground in the process._

_Jess had met this strange Pakistani guru in a small bookstore in Quetta a few weeks ago. The guy loved to ask rhetorical questions and pry into Jess' life without actually prying. It was new to have such a companian who delivered more infomation about you than you were ready to give yourself. He was a master of guessing, Jess supposed._

_What is it with boys and their mothers, Aarif had asked. Being a man of little chit-chat, Jess didn't answer, waiting for Aarif to take out another great memorable thought out of his magical wisdom hat. Aarif didn't, though. No magic hat this time? Was this one of the rare cases when Aarif was actually _asking_ for Jess' opinion?. He had heard the phone call between Jess and his _'Mom?_' minute ago, of course he _was_ gonna ask questions. _

_Jess shrugged wryly and continued typing on his laptop._

_'Bad timing, man, not in the mood for a rip-my-heart-out-and-spread-it-on-the floor conversation, plus I'm the last person to tell you about mother-son relationship,' Jess thought self-ironically, his fingers speeding up over the keyboard, then pausing and hesitating for a moment before marking the last couple of paragraphs and deleting them thoroughly. _

'_I don't remember much of _my_ parents,' Aarif added in a small, implying deep nostalgia voice. _

_Jess sighed and stopped typing, giving his companion a sizing look. For a moment Aarif looked like he was gonna start crying._

'_Oh, come on,' Jess waved his hand and pinched the base of his nose. 'You almost got me here,' he admitted with a chuckle and shook his head at Aarif who was now shaking with laughter._

_Aarif had told Jess how his parents, who worked for the Indian Embassy in Islamabad, left for Delhi on some government service one day when he was eight, how he hadn't seen them ever since. His grandparents had brought him up, but he had never regretted the time spent in his grandparents' house in Lahore. Aarif had had a happy childhood, or at least he had told Jess so._

'_Were you really trying to sneak some personal information out of me by making me feel _sorry _for you? That's pathetic, man, that's really pathetic,' Jess shook his head again and got back to typing._

_Aarif inspected Jess' face for a while and leaned forward, letting the chair come down with a numb thud._

'_Why are you so ashamed of her, Jess?' Aarif asked in a few seconds, serious this time._

_Jess stopped typing and exhaled harshly, then pushed his chair back._

'_Stop it, okay? You don't know shit about me, so stop pretending to be fucking Oprah or something,' Jess snarled between gritted teeth, then stood up and started to leave. _

_Seriously? What was this guy thinking? Jess wasn't having a soul-searching trip or something, how did this man who had appeared out of ... out of _nowhere,_ decide that Jess needed his analysis? _

_'Again, why is he keeping me company? Oh, right, because I pay him to. Jeez, just how pathetic is that?' _

'_Who's Fucking Oprah?' Aarif asked behind him, bemused._

_Jess stopped in his track and rubbed his hand against his jaw. Okay, _maybe_ he had overreacted a little bit. The guy just liked to ask questions, that was it. _

'_You don't know who Oprah is?' Jess asked disbelievingly as he turned back._

'_Do I have to?'_

_If Jess had to judge by the expression on his face, Aarif was sincerely at a loss here._

'_She's an annoying woman who asks too many questions,' Jess explained while taking his place back at the table._

'_Interesting.' Aarif nodded thoughtfully and lit a cigarette._

'_Not that interesting, really.' Jess sighed and his fingers aligned back on the keyboard._

'_I mean, interesting how Americans think they lay the basis of the whole world. You're half the world away from the States, but you still think everyone must know who Oprah is. Interesting.' _

_Jess took a moment to think over Aarif's words and then nodded._

'_Yeah, it may be a little interesting. Maybe you're right.'_

_So this guy, despite being a total pain in the ass, thought differently. That was something.  
><em>

_Jess started typing again, faster this time. The words came one after the other, chasing one another over the lines, not giving him time to think them over. What the hell, he could edit later._

* * *

><p>Jess threw another glance at his hand, gripping at the doorknob. A dry laugh escaped his lips. <em>Hilarious<em>. Planning a fast escape like a fifteen-year-old who was caught smoking pot in the bathroom.

He turned the key. With a loud click the door opened, revealing the apartment where he grew up.

'_Is that you, Jessie?'_ sounded in his head. He shook it with wasn't happening. Maybe not now. But it had. Fifteen years ago.

'_There's pizza in the fridge, if you're hungry_,' recoiled as he passed through the narrow corridor into the living room.

_March, 1996_

''_Kay,' Jess replied as he headed towards the fridge. His stomach had shrunk in with hunger, he would eat anything within range that didn't move too much to be caught._

_As he passed through the living room, he threw a look at his mother who was half-sitting-half-lying on the sofa, watching TV. They were featuring **Take That** on some pop chart show. He made a face and reached for the fridge door. As he opened it, he saw the piece of pizza his mother had mentioned._

'_It's gone bad,' he muttered over his shoulder, but his mom didn't hear him, busy singing 'How deep is your love' along with the TV. The only thing that could be found in the fridge, saved for the rotten piece of pizza, was a bottle of beer on the fridge door._

_Liz was still humming 'we're living in a world of fools breaking us down…' as he approached the sofa and glanced at the beer bottles on the coffee table. There were also a handful of nuts, scattered over the table. Jess could swear last night they were swimming in one of the glasses. It was now lying empty on its side._

'_Mom, there's nothing in the fridge,' he said quietly, trying to think of a way not to lose his cool. It was just dinner, right? Just dinner. '_People have been killed for less…Anyway, **focus**_.' _

_Liz threw him a questioning look. _

'Not stoned… yet_,' Jess made her out fast enough, being experienced in assessing his mother's condition every day. It didn't vary too much, anyway, given Liz was never in for the Mother of the Year Contest, whether she had or had not drunk her first bottle for the day. She wasn't at her worst tonight, though._

'_Come on here, Jessie, sit next to mommy,' Liz sighed a little dozily._

_Jess stood in place._

'_Come on, Jessie,' Liz repeated as she drew her eyes off the screen to look at him directly. 'Come, look at what I found in the dresser today,' she said as she gestured towards a book that was lying on the floor under the table._

'_It's White Fang', Liz continued cheerfully, 'remember how much you loved the movie when you watched it with Jake at Mark and Sue's?'_

_Mark and Sue were their neighbors next door. They had a son who was three years younger than Jess and they had let Jess sleep over one night when his mother was taken into hospital after one of her boyfriends had broken her rib and clavicle. They had let him and Jake watch White Fang, because they were afraid Jess might be too upset and wouldn't fall asleep unless they provided some distraction. He had pretended to be very interested in the movie, so that they didn't ask him if he was okay. He hated people asking him if he was okay. So he had watched the movie so intently, he could still recite whole passages from the main character's lines. He checked on the book afterwards. He found it pretty interesting. He found that the more he read, the less he thought about the reasons why he might not be okay. He started carrying a book around with himself whenever he went out and found it quite reassuring. All this was four years ago._

'_I just realized I never read to you when you were a baby,' Liz said regretfully and shook her head a little discordantly._

_Jess stood still, trying to decide whether his mother had taken anything other than the alcohol. Or maybe she just felt nostalgic? '_Who would tell the difference between both, anyway?_' _

_He felt his stomach twist with hunger again. He had to look for a job or else this in-between-jobs-situation, as Liz called it, would get him an ulcer. '_Yeah, a job can be of use. Tomorrow, after school… Oh, crap, I never wanted to go to the damn place anyway._'_

'_Jessie, are you okay?'_

_Jess winced._

'_Yeah, I… nothing,' he sighed, deciding to just let it go. He would think about it all tomorrow._

'_Come on, then, sit next to me, I'll read to you,' Liz waved her hand impatiently._

_Jess swallowed and made an indefinite gesture with his hand._

'_I'd better go to my room… Got school tomorrow. Night, mom,' he added and started for his room. _

_He was just about to close the door as he heard his mother's sobs coming from the living room. In a moment he was back, crouching next to the sofa, his eyes searching his mother's._

'_Mom,' he asked gently and Liz looked up, her eyes red and watery. _

'_I always mess things up,' she sniffed, 'I'm such a crappy mother, you don't even want to talk to me anymore,' she continued as she wiped her eyes. 'Why won't you talk to me?' _

_Jess narrowed his eyes._

'_I talk to you,' he stated simply._

'_You don't,' Liz shook her head. 'You're always outside and when you come back, you just stay in your room,' she whined._

'_Don't all teenagers do that?' Jess attempted a smile. Then he reached for the book that was still lying under the table and waved it before his mother's eyes.'Come on, let's read White Fang,' he chirped exaggeratedly and moved to sit next to Liz. 'We can take turns. I'm first.'_

_Liz watched him as he began to read._

_'Chapter 1: The Trail of the Meat'_

_Her sobs subsided, replaced by a feeling of peace that spread quickly over her face, anchoring at her lips in the shape of a small smile. Jess, however, was already reading quietly, sinking effortlessly into the world between the pages, a world he could always reach for, where he was always welcome. _

_"On the sled, in the box, lay a third man whose toil was over, - a man whom the Wild had conquered and beaten down until he would never move nor struggle again. It is not the way of the Wild to like movement. Life is an offense to it, for life is movement; and the Wild aims always to destroy movement."_

_Listening to her son's even reading, Liz felt her eyelids heavy and dozed off in peaceful sleep._

* * *

><p>Jess realized he was staring at the sofa. He blinked a few times to gain his feeling of reality back.<p>

A look around the room was enough to assess the state it had been left in when his mother moved out. The floor was covered with empty cans and cardboard boxes, bags of chips on the coffee table and on the windowsill, between the dead flowers in the pots. There were clothes scattered all around the place - hanging from chairs, lying on the carpet. The only thing missing was a giant spider net across the room and his childhood home could serve as a classic setting for a forensic screenplay.

Did he really think he could stay _here_? Leave alone the mess, did he think he could come back to stay in this apartment, in his old room? Getting back at the start, facing a world he'd been trying to erase from his memory for years?

Come on, Jess. The past is just past. It sits there and does nothing but exist. Yet, its weight was a burden he couldn't, wouldn't carry along. The past could be dangerous when you live in the same room.

He picked his backpack from the floor and made his way to the front door.

Maybe one day he could come here to stay. One day, not today. Right now, his wrecked car seemed like the perfect place to stay, at least for tonight.

Jess closed the front door and turned the key in the lock. He felt his breathing get lighter as he started down the stairs. It was over. At least this time around, it was over.

* * *

><p>'Hey.'<p>

Jess stood pinned at the doorstep, hands stuck in his pockets. His backpack was lying forgotten in his feet while his eyes thirstily took in the sight of a sleepy Rory with messed hair and puffy eyes, dressed up in only a tank top and shorts as she appeared at the door frame. Given the late hour, Jess figured this was supposed to be her nightwear.

It took Rory less than a second to switch from sleepy and irritated to almost ecstatic.

She threw herself over him, making him stagger a little.

'You came,' she whispered when he closed his arms around her.

'I said I would, didn't I?' he smirked against her hair.

'Hi,' he moved back so he could face her.

Rory could feel his breath close and it sent tingles down her spine.

'Hi,' she echoed, not trusting herself to speak full-length sentences.

Jess leaned closer, almost touching her lips with his and she responded by doing the same until their foreheads touched.

He didn't move any further, though. Just stood still while his eyes studied her features in excruciating detail.

She felt warm. Her lips curved up in a shy smile. He had come.

He wanted to remember this – the sparkle in her eyes as she saw him at the door, the eagerness as she reached for him, the ease with which they somehow fitted together, both shyly and readily.

Rory felt her heart threaten to thump its way out of her chest as Jess tilted his head a bit and continued his eye travel over her face, so close she felt his eyelashes brush her cheek. She moved one hand from his neck to his face, tracing his jaw line with her fingertips.

'Jess,' she whispered weakly as her fingers reached his lower lip.

'Mm?'

'Will you please kiss me already, or my…' she was interrupted by Jess' lips catching hers, melting his chuckle into the kiss. A quiet welcoming moan escaped her, making him lean into her. He moved one hand away from her waist to soften the bump into the wooden frame as they pinned against its flat surface.

In a whirl of emotions, Rory vaguely thought that there was something she had to tell Jess before they moved any further into the living room.

'_Something about... what was it, again?' _Rory thought disconnectedly as she felt Jess' hand travel along her side. '_Paris... I've been there but what did this have to do with... Oh, God...'_ She heard a door slam somewhere behind.

'_Oh, right, Paris. The person Paris,'_ she remembered at last and made an effort to say something.

It came out like something that was between 'Jess' and 'Yes', so it was more of an '..ess..'

Jess heard something that resembling his name and after a moment of hesitation he decided it was a good 'Jess', a 'Jess' that he had heard come out of the lips of girls in moments when they most surely didn't want him to stop or pull away. Rory's fingers, hooked on his belt, affirmed so. Just then...

'You don't waste your time, do you?' the blonde in pajamas said, standing in the middle of the living room with her arms folded before her chest. 'Sorry I lit the lamps, thought I'd have a better view this way,' she continued with her typical Paris-like candidness.

'I'll wait for you outside,' Jess muttered between a couple of inaudible curses, then quickly crossed the corridor on his way out.

'Nice seeing you, Jess,' Paris said loudly so he could hear her.

He put his hand up in greeting without turning back.

'You were taking it slow, eh?' Paris shook her head with amusement as Rory soothed her tank top. 'Interesting what speeding up would look like.' Then she changed topic, 'Gonna make hot chocolate, want some?'

Rory bit her lower lip and shook her head no.

'I, ehm... I'm gonna change and get out for a walk'

* * *

><p><strong>Mood song, 'Through glass' by Stone Sour<strong>


	10. History

_Disclaimer: I own nothing but Aarif._

* * *

><p>'<strong>I'm interested in the way in which the past affects the present and I think that if we understand a good deal more about history, we automatically understand a great more about contemporary life.'<strong>

**Toni Morrison, _Time_ interview, Jan. 21, 1998**

* * *

><p>'<strong>The researches of many eminent antiquarians have already thrown much darkness on the subject; and it is possible, if they continue their labors, that we shall soon know nothing at all.'<br>Artemus Ward**

* * *

><p><span><strong>Chapter 10: History<strong>

Sobered, Jess dashed out of the apartment, blindly closing the door after himself. He had to take a couple of deep breaths, maybe a cold shower, too... Come to think of it, right now a cross in the park didn't sound too bad, either.

All he knew was that he had to take a firmer grip over his blood circulation before he was ready to face _anyone_ at all.

He propped up against the rail and inhaled, waiting for his heart's erratic beat to slow down.

* * *

><p>'How do I look?' Rory asked while smoothing the pleats of her white skirt. She was standing in front of the bedroom mirror with the door left open for Paris to see from her position in the living room. She was sitting cross-legged on the sofa and observed Rory quite intently.<p>

'Do you want me to move out tomorrow morning?' the blonde asked forwardly before sipping from the hot chocolate.

Rory turned to face her friend with raised eyebrows, failing to get where that question came from.

_Oh, right. Jess. She's asking me if she's interrupting something._

'Paris, I don't want you to move out tomorrow morning,' Rory replied seriously and adjusted the white tank top on her torso. She put on a pair of flat sandals and grabbed a cardigan from the wardrobe, trying to comb her hair in the meantime.

'You're doing it backwards, you realize that, right?' Paris asked with a curious look in her eyes. Rory took her purse on her way and stopped in front of the sofa, giving Paris a questioning look.

'You make out in the corridor and _then_ you go on a date?' Paris elaborated. She was going to add something more, but Rory's face shifted into a warning expression and Paris shrugged, putting a hand up in defense. 'I was just saying.'

'Yeah, I know. See you, Paris.'

Rory shook her head and put on the cardigan before she opened the door and walked out.

* * *

><p>Rory's apartment was on 144th Str., close to <em>Columbia University<em> buildings. After she met Jess in front of her block of flats, they started without any particular direction, simply enjoying the chance to walk hand in hand and keep silent without feeling uncomfortable about it, each of them lost in thought, but also very aware of the other's presence.

The sky was hanging somewhat closer to the city tonight with the moon throwing obscure light behind bulky clouds. The air was thick with industrial smoke, reflecting countless city lights which gave it a rusty, sky brown color. There were occasional cars passing by, people going in and out of bars with unsteady steps, hardly balancing between sleep and awareness. A teen couple was making out at the backseat of a car, a tramp was adjusting his cardboard, preparing it to spend the night on...

They had been walking for more than half an hour, wandering the streets of Morningside Height. From the corner of his eye Jess observed Rory's light pace, the slender shoulders occasionally brushing his through the fabric of their clothes. She was wearing a cherry red cardigan that barely covered the white tank top she had put on underneath and he spent ridiculous amount of time observing the curve of her collarbone as they walked. When a shiver went through her, at first he thought his stare must have gained some paranormal powers before he realized she might actually feel cold.

'Hold on,' he mumbled as he stopped, breaking the handhold.

Under Rory's quizzical look, he took the sweater off, his shirt moving up underneath and revealing a patch of bare skin over his flank. Rory swallowed a little dryly, remembering what it felt like to touch, less than an hour ago. He threw the sweater in her hands and she caught it just in time to prevent it from falling onto the ground.

'You want me to sing a song or something?' she frowned, surprised by his sudden stripping inclinations.

She held the dark green sweater in her hands. It was still warm as she squeezed it slightly between her fingers.

'Just look at you,' she smiled at his expression on her comment. 'You're very sweet when you pull that face,' she ruffled his hair and brushed a chaste kiss on his cheekbone before she put on the sweater. Jess rolled his eyes and grunted something incomprehensible in protest, something about chivalry being extinct for a reason.

'Come on, _Shrek_, move it, I'm starving,' she chirped as she slipped her hand around his and guided him toward a fast-food restaurant across the street.

* * *

><p>'Lorelai?' Luke asked warily. He watched his step around the books and magazines that lay scattered on the floor and took the absurd pink<strong> 'Mice need love, too'<strong> book stand on his way, holding it above his shoulder.

'Put Mickey down, Obi-Wan!'

Luke turned abruptly to find his wife standing two feet away from him, wearing a pair of dark rimmed glasses and reading a book.

'Lorelai?' he asked suspiciously.

'Luke?' she mimicked his grimace as she looked up from the book.

Luke shook his head and put the book stand back on the shelf.

'Talk.' He sighed as he crossed his arms before his chest.

'About what, honey?' Lorelai asked innocently, busy checking on the book and then gesturing as if she was sizing the room with a pencil.

Luke rolled his eyes.

'Ehm, I don't know, what about why is the living room looking like somebody tried to steal the carpet without moving the furniture first? Or maybe about why are you wearing glasses and acting as if you're in the middle of making a Nobel prize winning invention?' he suggested and shrugged emphatically.

Suddenly Lorelai snapped from the trance she seemed to be in and made an excited gesture with her hands.

'See? It works! I _told_ her it would work!' she cheered triumphantly, waving her hands in the air. Then she stopped abruptly and leaned closer to him, studying his face carefully. 'You thought I was looking smart, didn't you?' she asked with a knowing nod.

'Ehm…'

'You did! You mentioned a Nobel prize, it's too late to take it back now!' she continued resolutely. 'I told Sookie the glasses always do the job, but she wouldn't believe me! So now when we go meet those law guys with their law suits and law briefcases, I'll look intelligent. I mean, I _am_ intelligent, but now I'll look more like it, what do you say?' she finished eagerly.

Luke narrowed his eyes, rewinding her last words in his head. It was a habit he had mastered over the time spent together.

'Again, who are 'those law guys'?' he asked.

'Oh, just some law guys who may rent the inn for a team building next weekend. Can you imagine, the Dragonfly full of lawyers for three days, I bet they'll play checkers and scrabble, and maybe sardines, too, if they feel adventurous. That would be the cleanest profit we have made since the Nuns of the East Organization held their conference at the Dragonfly last year.'

Luke shook his head, unable to hide his smile.

'Okay, glasses checked. What about the burglary scene?' he asked, gesturing towards the sofa and the coffee table that were dragged to the middle of the room and left facing different directions.

'Oh, it's Feng shui,' Lorelai replied matter-of-factly. 'I came across this book and here it says' she waved the book in her hand 'that we were obstructing the flow of the energies, so I decided to move the sofa, but it was kinda heavy and the carpet wrinkled just when I was about to…'

'Whoa, whoa, whoa! Just hold a bit, there's no way I'm watching baseball using a pocket mirror, okay?'

For a moment Lorelai looked like she was gonna object, but then she sighed and pouted.

'Okay. The armchair was gonna obstruct the way to the kitchen, anyway.'

'And we don't want that to happen, do we?' Luke raised and eyebrow. 'Come on,' he rolled his sleeves up, 'let's get the furniture back in the old places.'

Lorelai nodded and left the book on the coffee table before they caught it at both ends and moved it back in its place.

As they moved on to the sofa, Luke smiled impishly.

'You know, those glasses quite suite you,' he whispered over her shoulder.

Lorelai's face lit up.

'They do, don't they?' she asked merrily and put her arms around him.

Luke nodded, already guiding her backwards towards the sofa.

'Luke…'

'Keep quiet, woman, don't obstruct the flow of the energies.'

* * *

><p>Rory and Jess entered a small plaza with a fountain in the center. The brightest lights were coming from the shimmering neon ad of a 24-supermarket across the street. It was about two o'clock in the morning and the park lot next to the supermarket was empty, saved for a homeless cat sleeping over a piece of cardboard.<p>

Without any particular purpose, they headed for the fountain and stopped at the pair of stone stairs that led to its curved rim.

Jess took out a cigarette but didn't hurry to light it. His fingers twirled with the steel Zippo unconsciously while he and Rory both stood staring at the fountain as if it held some important encoded message they were trying to decipher. Water streamed blithely out of the mouths of several stone frogs lined in a circle in its basin. Jess watched Rory lean over the rim and stretched a hand to meet the water. He didn't need to look at her directly to absorb her vibrant presence. It washed over his whole being the way water washed over the stone. He wanted to tell her so many things, about the last Bukowski copy he managed to sneak out from Chris before he left Truncheon this morning, about his visit at _Fayerweather Hall_ later in the afternoon, about the meeting with the _Clover Publishing_ agent tomorrow... so many things he wanted her to know but none of them seemed _relevant_.

His thoughts flew back to _Fayerweather Hall._ Earlier today, the geeky man stood behind his desk, smoothing the sleeves of his funny old-fashioned suit. He asked Jess what his future plans were and the question caught him a little off-guard. Maybe because, for the first time in years (basically for the first time since his decision to leave for Pakistan), Jess had a clear idea what his future plans were. This was a change. He had never had plans, he had always acted by instinct, by some general idea of what came next. Something would happen. He would react. And that about wrapped it all. Pakistan cracked it. And it had some kind of ripple effect on his life. What were his future plans? _I want this to matter._

'_I want to attend your world history course,' Jess answered simply._

'_Why?' Mr. Wilkins asked without hiding his wish to size the young man who came into his office with no appointment in his tucked-in shirt and Converse sneakers._

'_I guess I tend to dig into the past, it's kinda fancy you can't make things worse than they already happened,' Jess shrugged and leaned back in the armchair. _

_The older man raised an eyebrow but Jess decided to hold the eye contest until the man finally spoke again._

'_I thought young people rather fancied the future,' Mr. Wilkins challenged with a brief sparkle in his pale blue eyes._

'_Without the beginning, how can you understand the end?' Jess countered without hesitating, but inwardly he knew the interview was not going the way he would have liked it to. He wasn't making any progress being perky. Not with a completely unknown history guy who he had to convince that of all people, he, Jess Mariano, worldly unknown writer who graduated high school two years late, deserved his scholarship history course._

_Jess deliberately held a breath in an attempt to change tactics. He attempted a truce smile but suspected it came out unnatural and settled for a forward look. It was the first time in his life he was trying to promote himself and it was proving to be as irksome as he had feared.  
><em>

'_Look, Mr. Wilkins, I know I don't look it, but I'm worth a shot. Here is my resume,' he added as he took a file out of his messenger bag and put it before Mr. Wilkins. _

_'I…I would be grateful if you'd take the time to look through it, that's all,' Jess sighed and with a brief nod stood up to gather his stuff with the intention to leave before he's dug himself deeper than he already had. What was he thinking, again? Was he really trying to talk a Columbia University professor into taking him under his wing or something? He wanted to take a world history class, not become a Columbia university yuppie. He shouldn't have listened to Matt and come here, he felt so out of place._

_Damn, he had wanted to do this class ever since he started writing, finding out that a great deal of good writing actually came from the writer's ability to give a new perspective on well-known historical facts. They were like dots that were begging to be connected in so many ways, that if you decided to follow a thread it would get you so many places, places you wanted to be, but never found a way to._

'_It's written here that you're a writer,' Mr. Wilkins said with a certain flair of doubt in his voice._

_Jess put the messenger bag over his shoulder and stood straighter as he gave the older man a short nod._

'_I have one book published. I'm editing a second one.'_

_Jess thought he saw a flash of interest cross the man's face, but it was gone soon enough, replaced by a polite, but cold 'Okay, Mr. Mariano, that's all for now.'_

'_Yeah. Thank you for your time,' Jess nodded goodbye and left the office, wondering what crazy force had possessed him to come in the first place._

* * *

><p>'May I talk to you?' Rory asked, tearing Jess away from the memory. She was sitting on the fountain rim with her back to the water and her hands were nervously fidgeting in her lap.<p>

Jess frowned but nodded, waiting for her to ssay something. When she didn't, he lit a smoke a quick flip of the steel Zippo.

'I've actually been rehearsing this,' she shook her head and a small smile curved his lips as he sat down next to her and studied her face.

_Of course you had, Gilmore_. _Bet you made a pro/con list, as well._

'It's something that has been there for a… _while_, well, years, actually,' she continued hesitantly, 'and I… I thought it was just a temporary thing. You know, like having a stone in your shoe, you can live with it, you know you can try to get it out, but you can as well walk with it if you don't… But this… this _thing_, it kinda grows and bugs me the more time passes and I really didn't mean to pour it all down on you the moment you landed on homeland, so I waited for a proper moment.' She tucked a strand behind her ear and bit a lip.

If Jess was at a loss before, now he completely failed to get where she was going. However, as with most of her confessions, he knew he would probably have to listen to all she had to say, maybe even have a drink or two, before even remotely getting what she was actually trying to convey.

'But there never is a proper time for this, right?' she hesitated whether to continue and searched his eyes. He gave her a slight nod to encourage her and pulled on his cigarette.

'I don't know what happens next, maybe I'll chicken out and never gather the courage to start this conversation again. So, I'll start talking now and I'd be really glad if you... well, talk, too, eventually.'

Jess restrained a smirk at the thought that only a Gilmore could say she would start talking _now_, after having just held a five-minute introductory speech. He just nodded again, sensing she needed him to cooperate somehow. For some reason this time she was the one having trouble finding her words.

'I feel I owe you an explanation about that night in Philly,' she quietly confessed at last, and then paused, searching for his reaction, but his expression suddenly bore less emotion than a sphinx's. His features had evened and Rory realized he wasn't going to make it any easier on her here. Fair enough. She took a breath and continued.

'It took me a while to think things over and it turned the explanation of what happened was rather simple.'

_That's surely a new definition of _simple_ that I'll witness_, Jess thought bitterly, but held it back.

Typical for her, Rory had to think over everything that happened in her life, calculating its logic carefully. But _he_ didn't want to hear what logic her actions back then had followed. He had tried to, back then, he had tried to understand, spending more than enough time trying to fit the parts together. But they never fitted. He had decided to just accept the facts as they were. He had hurt her, she had hurt him, can we move on, already? Jeez, why did she _have_ to go back there and bring it all up again?

'I came in Philly to see you because I was a mess,' Rory started.

_As if this explains anything at all_, she criticized herself inwardly.

'I mean, there was this whole Dark Ages for me and you were the single person who managed to tear me from the...' she looked for a word, 'torpidity that I found myself in. My life really sucked back then and I didn't want to admit it. I didn't talk to mum, I didn't talk to Lane, disturbingly I had even stopped talking to myself…' she smiled hesitantly but met his eyes and looked down. They were colored a dark brown she never thought could look so distant.

_I'm finishing this, too late to stop now_, she thought bitterly and forced herself to look up at him again as she continued.

'I had just started getting it toghether, coming back to being myself again when this whole thing between me and Logan happened' she noticed the slight change in his expression as she mentioned Logan, the almost imperceptible flinch, but went on talking. She knew that if she stopped talking now, she wouldn't have the guts to start this conversation again. 'He broke it really badly for me back then, and there I was an even bigger mess than before. So I came in Philly, searching for... the mental equivalent of a cold shower. It was a selfish decision and I understood it the moment we got alone. I had thought… I thought I wouldn't feel the same way for you that I used to. Not after all that time. And when you kissed me' she noticed the firm clench of his jaw at the mention of the kiss, but continued before her courage had drained out completely. 'When you kissed me, I got it all back again, and I felt myself get even more messed up. I had thought we could be friends, you had really helped me get myself together, but… we never were just friends, were we?' a nervous chuckle escaped her lips but didn't get through the stone-like expression of his face. She was afraid what stood behind his braced anger.

Rory realized she might have just broken it for them with this sudden desire to confess and start anew. This fragile relationship they had established, she could've well killed it at the start.

She looked aside, focusing on her hands fidgeting in her lap as she continued.

'So, maybe it really did leave a trace over you, the person you first loved… and I just couldn't make you a part of the mess that I was then, maybe because the more I stayed, the worse I'd make things, maybe wrong beyond fixing, it felt so wrong and I made a classic runaway, trying to make myself believe nothing big had actually happened. But it was wrong of me to do what I did,' she shook her head regretfully, 'I was such a mess and I brought some of it on to you and since that moment two things started to clear up in my head.'

Jess quirked an eyebrow, holding back a bitter comment. He had decided to listen to all she had to say before he said anything at all.

Rory didn't see his reaction. She closed her eyes as she continued.

'One thing I figured was that someday I owe us this conversation, monologue, actually, considering your share so far, and...' she bit on her lip and forced herself to look at him, 'and the other was that there was some... place in my mind that was once for you... only... and would most probably be saved for you for... a long time, maybe for…' for a split second blue eyes sank into brown and Rory felt helpless because words failed her.

'… for a really long time, okay?' she gave up trying to find a better word. Forever was such a deceptive word, it felt inappropriate to talk about. Nobody could use it without eventually lying and she didn't want to lie to him. 'And...' she made a longer pause and Jess could feel the cigarette had been burning his fingers for a while, but didn't really care. 'And I don't actually want this to change,' she finished, feeling an enormous burden fall off her shoulders.

Jess studied her face for a while before asking,

'Are you saying that you left because wanting to be with me _confused_ you?'

His tone was cold and demanding. It searched for an answer without providing one. She had started this, she was gonna finish. _He_ wasn't the one rubbing salt into the wound. After all this time, he was surprised to find how real the memory of the inflicted pain still felt.

Rory felt the last traces of courage leave her. Okay, then, whatever had to happen, would happen. She had said more than she imagined she would be able to, and if this wasn't enough, nothing more she could say would ever be. Articulation failed her.

Jess stared at her quizzically for a while, then left the fag-end slip between his fingers, nodded slightly and walked away. Rory stood motionless, unable to make sense of his reaction, suddenly feeling silly and exposed. She blinked fervently, trying to prevent the salty haze she felt approaching. Here she had thought she was ready for revealing her soul and everything, stuttering life truths as if she had lost all sense of self-preservation.

'_I think I may have loved you, but I… I just need to let it go.' _

'_I never let it go, did I? Never mind_,' she shook her head and put her arms around her knees, trying to brace herself. '_At least I had the courage to face… face what? That I love him? That I never really stopped? Holy crap…'_

* * *

><p>Jess paced between the shelves in the supermarket, not really able to see anything. He had walked in without any particular purpose, he just knew that if he didn't do anything with his hands and feet, he would explode.<p>

He felt his pulsing temples ache as he passed by nameless cereals and candy bars. If someone saw him at this very moment, they would surely think he was in a severe drug abstinence or something. He stumbled into a trolley and it made a great deal of noise as it bumped into the tin can section, waking him up from the trance he had fallen into. He looked around and wondered what the hell was he doing here. Gradually the thumping in his temples slowed down and he felt he was coming back to himself again.

* * *

><p>'Here,' a bottle of wine, followed closely by Jess, materialized in front of Rory's eyes.<p>

'We're gonna need some of this to finish this conversation,' Jess added as he sat down next to her.

Rory watched him as he opened the bottle, feeling confused. Excited. _Thankful_.

'Good,' she spoke quietly and nodded as she took the bottle and drank. 'Cause I thought you left me alone in this.'

He rubbed a hand across his jaw thoughtfully. Then took the bottle and drank before shaking his head with what looked like a smile of self-irony.

'You never were alone in this.'

* * *

><p><strong>Reviews are better than candy.<strong>


	11. The Ones We've Been Waiting For

_Disclaimer__:I disclaim everything but_**_ Aarif._  
><strong>

* * *

><p>'<strong>We are the ones we've been waiting for. We are the change that we seek.'<br>Barack Obama**

**Chapter 11: The Ones We've Been Waiting For**

'Just don't get too excited, now,' Rory mumbled resignedly as she observed Jess' blank expression after her short speech.

It had all begun with an innocent question Jess had asked about her work meeting in two weeks and for Rory that was a cosmic sign the time for getting personal had come. Moreover, she was in bad need of sharing her ideas with an adversary. An adversary different from her laptop. Someone real. Someone human. Someone Jess… who was now sitting on the couch, his legs stretched over the coffee table, arms crossed before his chest and his mouth slightly open, as if he was waiting for her culmination sentence. The problem was, she had told him all she had come up with so far and it was obviously not any good, judging by Jess' lack of enthusiasm. His expression said 'Okay, now gimme the good stuff'.

'I don't have a culmination sentence,' Rory blurted out, then bit on her lip. 'Can't you at least pretend that you liked it? Just a little, tiny bit,' she tried to bargain, her eye squinting.

Jess' eyebrows furrowed.

'I didn't say I didn't like it,' he pointed out, uncrossing his legs and then putting them down.

'You didn't have to,' Rory's shoulders slumped and she let out a frustrated sigh. 'It's pretty obvious you find it ridiculous.'

She paused to think, then placed a hand over her forehead.

'Oh my god, what am I gonna do? I have to be ready with the rough project until Thursday and I don't have a clue what I am going to present. I'm gonna end up kicked out of the internship, and there I thought I could work in television, rock the Big Apple with my ridiculous, bizarre, wacky, tacky…'

'Hey, hey, Rory, _stop_,' Jess cut in, holding back a chuckle. He stood up and tipped his head to meet her gaze.

'Will you look at me?' he asked as his hands rested on the sides of her arms, his thumbs rubbing them slightly.

Rory shrugged helplessly and waved a hand in the air in an indefinite gesture.

'How could I not see it, it's so painfully obvious the idea's crappy, it's _conspicuous_ that it wasn't any good, how could I not see it from the start? Book trailers, who would buy that? It's like hot ice-cream or… or sweet cheese or… God, what was I _thinking_?'

She shook her head regretfully and her nose wrinkled in a way that made her look seventeen again.

Jess suppressed another chuckle. Her being herself had always amused him to the point where he felt a growing desire to get a snack and take a comfortable position in which he could spend hours, simply watching her babble and gesticulate.

However, he knew that this time she was really upset thinking that - god forbid - someone might not fall in love with her idea for a new TV show with guest writers and trailers of their upcoming novels.

'… and, by the way, you, being my boyfriend, should've supported me, why don't you support me?' Rory crossed her arms before her chest, her lower lip slightly pouting.

Jess closed his eyes and then opened them again.

'Rory, what are you talking about?'

'You should've lied to me, told me my idea was one in a million, no, one in a _trillion_, one in a…' Rory gave up and shook her head. She wanted him to be proud of her, not console her.

'Zillion?' Jess chuckled and moved a stray hair from her face.

'Not funny,' she mumbled, poking her index against his chest while playing with a button of his shirt.

'Come on, you didn't really expect me to lie to you, did you?' Jess brought her closer and smiled against her hair.

'I… I don't know,' she shrugged jadedly. 'I guess I expected you would like it and wouldn't have to lie to me in the first place.'

Jess sighed and brought her to sit down with him.

'Rory, can you keep quiet and listen for a minute?' he asked seriously.

She nodded yes.

'Okay. First, I didn't say I didn't like the idea of book trailers…' he started with a tone he had heard his uncle use when convincing Lorelai to eat something healthy. It was a tone streaming with patience.

'But you were sitting there with that expression on your face and you didn't even…' Rory cut in but bit her lip and smiled apologetically. 'Sorry. I'm listening. Go on, I'm all ears.'

Jess took a breath and continued.

'I'm not exactly excited about the idea, cause it kinda moves the attention away from the book itself, I mean, it becomes more about the trailer than it is about the book, with everyone getting obsessed with who's who in the trailer, did they fish together or had Mac and Cheese together or whatever…'

Rory's eyes narrowed. Jess scratched his ear. Okay, he had to explain himself better.

'To me, the point of reading is to be able to see the story unabridged, like, there are so many ways of reading a story, it's about seeing without actually seeing, hearing without actually hearing, using only your imagination. And bending it through someone's perspective making it all more real could make it… less personal, I guess,' he shrugged and licked his lower lip, waiting for her reaction, but Rory was standing perfectly still, looking back at him directly.

Jess shook his head and gave her a small smile.

'That's why Matt and Chris don't normally ask my opinion.'

Rory nodded once, thinking his words over.

'And second?' she asked quietly.

'Huh?'

'You said first, you didn't say you didn't like it, what's second?'

Jess pressed his lips together, keeping a smile, a glitter flashing through his eyes.

'Second, when I decided to go half the world away and make a research for my book, everyone thought I was nuts, including you,' Jess started and Rory's lips quivered, 'and it's still the best damn thing I ever did in my life,' he finished just before Rory threw her arms around his neck and plastered a kiss over his lips.

'Thanks,' she said against the corner of his mouth.

'You're welcome,' Jess half-guessed, half-answered as his arms closed around her. 'I'd hurry up with the second one if I'd known just how excited you'd be,' he smirked and Rory rolled her eyes. Then, suddenly, she shifted and disentangled herself from him, jumping to her feet.

'I have to go to work,' she said, already making her way to the door.

Jess followed her into the corridor where she was putting on a pair of heels.

'You know it's Sunday afternoon, right?' he asked occasionally and gave her the purse she was reaching for from the wall hanger.

'Yeah, I'll be back for dinner, here are the keys,' she said and took a set of keys from the side table, tossing them into Jess' hands.

'Jess…' she turned at the door.

'Huh?' Jess answered without looking up to her, inspecting the set of keys as if it were the most interesting and potentially dangerous object into the whole universe.

'The Chinese make fried ice cream,' she chirped and Jess nodded, blinking once and tearing his eyes away from the two thin pieces of metal in his hand for just a second.

'Yeah. And I like cheese cake, too,' he delivered absently.

'Oh, so do I,' Rory grinned. 'Later, Jess.'

'Yeah,' Jess mumbled, trying to think when the last time he had held someone else's keys was. Oh, right, this might be a first. And it felt ridiculously good.

* * *

><p>He threw another annoyed look at his mobile and continued typing. He had decided that he would either finish editing today or he would be dead to the world until he did. The mobile continued vibrating, an unknown number flashing on the display.<p>

After a last glance at the sentence he had been editing, he picked up.

'Mister Mariano?' a woman's voice sounded from the other end of the line.

'Speaking.' Jess' voice came out a little harsh, mainly due to the fact that for the last two days he hadn't spoken to a living thing saved for the boy in the supermarket when he went to get cigarettes last night.

'Ehm, it's Wendy Parker, I'm calling from Mr. Wilkins' office in _Fayerweather Hall_,' the woman started a little hesitantly and Jess' chest tightened for a moment. 'He said that, unfortunately, another candidate got the scholarship,' she continued and Jess let the breath out.

_Of course another candidate got it, _I_ wouldn't give the scholarship to myself, either, can't believe I ever thought they might be calling for anything else. _

'… so, if you're interested, he'll be in his office tomorrow morning,' carried to Jess' ears and he blinked a couple of times to clear his head and rewind what he had missed from the conversation. It was something like 'But there is another history class led by Professor Hawkins, so if you want to be enlisted, you can come to Mr. Wilkins' office.'

'If I'm interested?' he repeated dumbly.

There was a short pause, as if Wendy was trying to decide if he was a retard.

'Mister Wilkins asked me to remind you about the book,' she added at last.

'The book,' Jess echoed.

He heard Wendy sigh audibly. It was official. He was a retard.

'Your book?' she suggested with a voice she might as well have used when talking to a boy who found his daddy's machine gun and ran around with it in a room full of people.

'My book. Right.' Jess shook his head, still not really believing this whole conversation was happening. Not to him. He had never had any luck. He almost never got what he wanted, at least not at the first try, not even at the tenth try, to be more precise. So now he was looking out for the bait. There had to be some bait, right? But if there wasn't, then…

'Hey, Wendy?' he found his voice just as she was about to hang up.

'Yes, Mr. Mariano?'

'Do you like daisies?' he asked, grinning uncharacteristically.

'Excuse me?'

'Oh, what the hell, I'm bringing you daisies tomorrow, thanks for calling, Wendy.'

* * *

><p>'Jess?' Rory pushed the doorbell again, waiting for an answer. She was just about to dial his mobile when the door opened and she saw Jess… or what looked like Jess, but had been dragged around behind the back of a wild mustang.<p>

'God, you look awful,' she announced as she inspected him. His eyes were puffy, encircled in dark shades; his stubble was at least four days old, his hair a mess and the T-shirt and pants were rumpled in a way that suggested he had been sleeping in them.

'What happened, are you okay?' she frowned.

Jess smiled wearily and moved aside, making her a sign to come in.

'I'm okay _now_,' he sized her appreciatively.

He took in her long legs, revealed by the black and white bandage dress and wondered if she normally dressed up like this when she went to work.

She rolled her eyes and passed him by, kicking her heels off on the way.

'Not what I meant,' she smiled as she left her purse on the wall shelf in the corridor.

'Holy Saints and the Virgin of Guadelupe! Jess, did you just have a knife fight in here?' Rory gasped as she saw the mess in the living room. She surely remembered the place cleaner when she came up for coffee a week ago. The apartment was a shoebox size crash place for Matt and his sister when they had some business in NY and Matt had lent Jess his key for a couple of weeks.

Jess passed her by on his way to the fridge and shrugged nonchalantly.

'Want one?' he pointed at the beer bottle he took from the fridge. It was empty saved for another beer and a carton of milk.

She wondered if he had eaten anithing at all since they last had dinner out. This was five days ago.

Rory nodded absently and moved a couple of books from the sofa to the coffee table so she could sit. There were more books all over and the floor, some notes written on sheets of paper, some of them rumpled, some of them with coffee marks on them. There were bills spread over the coffee table.

'Jess, I was worried,' Rory sighed as she took the bottle from his hand.

Jess sat on the edge of the coffee table so that he was facing her leaning on his knees. He opened the beer and his eyebrows lifted.

'And why was that?' he inquired and drank from the bottle.

'When I told you I was working late the whole week, I didn't mean I didn't want to see you. I called you twice yesterday and last night you called me back just to tell me you had some work to do,' she said quickly and fiddled with the bottle in her hands without opening it.

Jess left his bottle aside and took hers to open, then put it back in her hands. She took it mechanically, trying to read his face, but it told her nothing, except he hadn't been having much sleep for the last couple of days.

'What's going on, Jess? Are you in some kind of trouble?' she asked apprehensively and threw a quick glance at the bills on the table. 'Because if you are, I would highly appreciate it if you'd be kind enough to tell me, so that I could at least try to help or, you know, run away screaming, but I need to know what's going on with you. You know, you always tell me there's nothing, and suddenly there is a whole big fat something and I, I just need to…'

'_Rory_.' Jess interrupted her, rubbing his temples.

'I've been editing. That's why I didn't call. I wanted to finish first.'

Rory's lips were shaped in a silent 'O' and she nodded with understanding, looking around the room again, registering the laptop and the coffee cups on the desk beside it. There were also two ashtrays filled up with cigarette butts. Then, as if remembering something, she turned to face him and her eyes narrowed.

'That's all? No knife fight?'

Jess tilted his head backwards and laughed heartily before giving her a nod.

'That's all, no knife fight,' he assured her. 'I thought you were supposed to trust your boyfriend more, huh?' he shook his head sarcastically and drank from his beer.

Rory looked down and smiled apologetically, then drank, too.

'Sorry,' she shrugged sheepishly, realizing how inadequate her reaction had been. 'I suppose it's been a while since I was somebody's girlfriend. Anyway,' she looked around in search of distraction. 'how's editing, am I gonna be invited to a book signing soon?'

Jess shook his head with a sour smile and put the bottle down on the floor.

'Sure, in case you're willing to publish it yourself,' he sighed skeptically.

'I am,' Rory nodded. Then leaned her chin on her hand, scrutinizing him. 'So, technically, you're my employee, Mariano,' she waved the bottle in the air, smiling impishly.

'Come here,' Jess replied as he took her hand and pulled her towards him so that she ended up half-straddling him. 'I missed you,' he whispered against the crook of her neck.

'I didn't,' Rory chuckled and tried to pull back but he held her in place and moved up her jaw line, muttering a disbelieving '_huh_'.

'Jess…' she whispered just before his lips caught hers and sent her mind reeling. His hands wrapped tighter around the small of her back, clinging her to him, letting the yearning transpire. As his palms slid up her back and one of them found the zipper of her dress, Rory felt extremely aware of what was about to follow. He deepened the kiss and it sent jolts down her spine. She realized she was still holding the beer against her chest, both of her hands gripping onto the bottle neck as if she was holding for dear life.

'Jess, wait…' she said weakly as she managed to pull her head back a little.

As she broke contact, she felt part of her set off an alarm, claiming her fool for stopping what he'd initiated.

Another part of her, though, told her she should run.

Their foreheads touched and she felt his palm stop over her ribs somewhere on its way to her breast.

'I…' she started but trailed off, unable to finish.

The look in Jess' eyes was stormy and she ran out of words for a second, thinking what it would look like if she hadn't pulled back, but then regained concentration and put a finger over his lips.

'Can you try not to think anything? I mean…' she swallowed dryly, feeling idiotic.

'I need to have a minute, okay?' she asked quietly, trying not to sound defensive. 'I will go out now and then I'll be back and … and you'll be here, okay? I won't be long,' she said, her voice trembling slightly.

She disentangled herself from him carefully, trying not to make it any more embarrassing than it already was, and left the bottle down next to his, adjusting her dress on her way. At the door she turned,

'Please try not to think anything until I come back.'

Then walked out.

* * *

><p>'Hey there, New Yorker, how's life in the big city, won a Pulitzer already?' Lane's cheerful voice picked up on the fifth ring.<p>

Rory smoothed her hair and leaned forward, resting her elbows on her bare knees.

'Lane, do you have a minute? Cause I could really use a friend to talk to right now.'

'Rory, are you okay?' Lane's voice came through, carrying a concerned vibe.

'Yeah, I'm okay. I just need to talk to someone, but I'm fine, I promise.'

'Okay, then,' Lane agreed, although reluctantly, 'Let me just go upstairs. Zack is playing cowboys and aliens with the kids and it's preapocalyptic down here. I tried to talk Kwan and Steve into playing _mute _aliens, but they didn't buy it. How come they're so cunning when it comes to messing with me and so young and naive when it comes to helping with the housework?'

Rory smiled absently while pressing her nail against the skin of her knee, watching as the small red crescents faded.

'Okay,' Lane continued, 'I'm upstairs now and I'm all ears. Talk.'

Rory bit her lip and nodded, not realizing her friend couldn't actually see her.

'You're gonna laugh,' Rory smoothed another strand of hair self-consciously.

'Just talk to me, Rory, I'm not laughing… yet.' Lane assured.

'It's about Jess and me having sex,' Rory blurted then, before she had time to have second thoughts about having this particular conversation.

'Wow, is he good?' Lane asked enthusiastically.

Rory sighed and closed her eyes.

'I… I don't know. That's why I'm calling.'

There was a short pause before Lane could answer.

'Well, it may be hard to tell, you know... You should know if it's been any good for _you_, cause every woman has her own…'

Rory's breath choked in her throat.

'No! God, _no_. Lane, I didn't mean ... whtever, I'm calling because we didn't do anything.'

'Sorry?'

'Well, we did kiss...'

'Kiss how?'

'What do you mean 'how'?'

'Was it solw, lingering lip kissing, or was it _I'm gonna eat you alive you've got too many clothes on_ kind of kissing?'

'Oh. I... don't know, I guess it began as slow kissing and then...'

'Was it good?'

'What? Yeah, it was.'

'Okay, go on. It began slow and then?'

'Well, then it became... less slow.'

'For a Yale graduate your bodice ripper language is _extremely_ poor,' Lane sighed disappointedly.

'I didn't realize I'm expected to have mastered, eh, bodice ripping.'

'Well, you are.'

Rory's brows furrowed.

'And why's that?'

'Hey, have you paid attention those last couple of years? I have a husband and two four year olds, I'm _dying_ to know more about your brooding romance with your alpha male...'

'Whoa, whoa. _Whoa_.' Rory shook her head in a belated attempt to sober. 'Lane. What have you been reading?'

'Did I mention my husband and two children?'

'So?'

'I may have indulged into some pulp fiction,' Lane admitted guiltily.

'Oh, Lane.'

'Just feed me something- anything, okay?'

Rory squeezed her eyes shut and bit her tongue. Then what the hell...

'Tension built up and it got urgent and there was this moment where clothes were too many.'

'Yes?'

'Well, that's it. Then I ran away.'

'You _what_?'

Rory let out a deep sigh. Well, at least it was out now. She had hoped it wouldn't sound so terrible when she spoke it out loud, but it still sounded pretty terrible. Darn.

'I ran away, Lane,' Rory repeated grimly. 'And now, I'm sitting on a bench in front of a supermarket next to Jess' and I'm wondering how I'm gonna upstairs and face him. See, I told him I'd be a while, but I don't know what to tell him when I go back. It was great and next minute I was running away. It was really embarrassing and you know how proud he is, I don't even know if he'll want to see me again, I mean, at least tonight...' Rory paused, shaking her head helplessly. 'God, you don't think he'll never want to see me again, do you? I have no idea what I'm gonna do.'

'Rory, why did you run away?' Lane asked. It was a question put gently, not an accusation.

Rory shifted uneasily.

'I… I think I was afraid it wouldn't be good enough,' she admitted at last and felt a lump eating at her throat.

She had been thinking about that. Of course she had. Especially after he moved in NY, she had been thinking about it practically each time they were together. Because, now that they were together, as a couple, they had to get together, like _together_ together. God. Okay, she was a grown-up woman, she could call stuff with their real names. She... was afraid of sex with Jess. There it was. That was basically the reason why she didn't call him earlier this week. She told herself she was busy submitting her project, but work wasn't the real reason why she didn't call. She didn't call so she could avoid being alone with him. _At least we know that part works._ This was a lot of years ago. Expectations had grown.

'But, Rory, from what I've heard from you about Dean and Logan, I don't think Jess would be one to kill the passion in a relationship. Truth be told, everyone would rather assume he is like rock and roll in bed…'

'Exactly.' Rory heard herself utter. 'That's exactly what freaks me out.'

Lane didn't answer for a while.

'Are you saying…'

Rory didn't let her finish.

'What I'm saying is I'm afraid it won't be good enough for _him_,' Rory squeezed her eyes, letting the humiliation seep through her. 'I'm a jerk, I know,' she added when Lane didn't reply.

'Rory,' Lane started a moment later, 'I don't think you're a jerk.'

'Thanks, Lane.' Rory mumbled and smiled. 'I appreciate that coming from my only childhood friend.'

'Wait,' Lane continued, 'let me finish. You're not a jerk, you panicked. You've been overthinking this for too long.'

'I can't help it.'

'I know. And I think Jess knows, too. Look, you're not a jerk, but running away like that probably made him feel like one. Go back and have this conversation with him, okay? He'll understand.'

'He'll understand? You think?' Rory asked hopefully.

'Well, he has to. Or he just doesn't deserve the title.'

'What title?'

'The _King of Roryland_ title.'

'Dear God.'

'You're welcome.'

'Lane?'

'Eh?'

'Stop reading trash, okay?'

'But I just told you that...'

'No buts. Stop it or I'll come and get rid of each sleazy page before you need a brain transplant.'

A heavy sigh.

'Okay.'

'And Lane?'

'Yeah.'

'Thank you.'

'Oh. You're welcome.'

* * *

><p>'Jess?'<p>

She stepped into the living room hesitantly, her eyes finding him smoking by the window. He was facing away, so she could only see his back.

_His hair's wet, he must've showered. And he's changed. Was he going out? Going out so that he didn't have to see me? Nevermind, you came here to talk, so talk._

'The door wasn't locked,' she began, 'So I came in…'

_Yeah. Go on. Point out the obvious._

'I brought some food,' she tried then, much to the same effect. 'I'll leave it on the plot'

No answer. But then again, she hadn't asked a question. A tiny smoke curve wove from between his fingers, stretching up and out through the open window.

'About earlier…' she planted herself a few feet behind his back, wishing she had anything to do with herself beside staring at him blankly.

'It wasn't about you, it was me,' she started dumbly. Her eyes were dwelling holes in his back. 'I didn't mean to offend you, I just…'

'Didn't mean to _offend_ me?' Jess cut in and Rory made a step back, numb at the acid edge of his voice.

He turned to face her and his eyes were stormy again but this time she didn't want to see what that look meant. She knew.

'For God's sake, Rory, how is the fact that my girlfriend doesn't want to have sex with me supposed not to be about me?' he asked exasperatedly. His voice cracked at the end and he broke eye contact, pausing to gain his cool. He rubbed a hand against his jaw, then down his nape.

'I do,' Rory uttered, making a step forward and her hands made a semicircle in the air as to emphasize her point. 'I want to have mind-blowing sex with you, I _do_,' she repeated determinedly.

Her last sentence caught Jess open-mouthed. Under different circumstances, he would have mocked her word choice. However, he swallowed once before shaking his head,

'I must have got the wrong idea.'

With an unreadable expression, he turned back towards the window.

'Jess, _please_. Let me explain, okay?'

Jess let out a dry laugh and it hit her worse than his burstout.

'_Explain_? What is there to explain?' his voice was heavy with sarcasm and Rory felt she was losing her nerve.

'Jeez, there _is_, okay? When I say there is, there is a whole _lot_ to explain. Like for example, how pretty much everyone that I know thinks you must be a... a sex god or something. And expectations have grown, years have passed since we were at that party at Kyle's and I… I never counted on that side of my relationships to do me any good. I mean, I'm not _that_ bad, at least I _hope_ I'm not that bad, but…' she shrugged helplessly when she met his dumbfound gaze.

He was so lost he couldn't even form the question. But it was there nonetheless. What the hell was she talking about?. Rory drew a breath in.

'We've been waiting for this since we were eighteen,' she continued, some of her fervor down. 'Well, at least _I_'ve been waiting. I don't mean _literally_ waiting but, you know, I've put some thought into it and it was always great and... and hot and _smooth_ in my mind. We get together, sparks fly and it's all there - the want, the heat, the satisfaction... everything. But then I remember I'm me and - well, I'm no porn queen if you get what I mean, and I think - what if he sees me as a... as an inapt _dork_, what if he's been thinking about it too and now that we actually do something, he decides that part doesn't really work, not anymore and I simply… freaked out,' she sighed exasperatedly and dropped into the armchair, covering her face with her hands.

She felt spent.

A minute may have passed and neither of them spoke. Then she felt Jess' palms close over hers, pulling them down gently.

'Rory?'

He was kneeling in front of her and his head was tilted to the side while his look searched hers.

When she lifted her head, her eyes were slightly sparkling and the corners of his lips twitched before moving up slightly. His look was tender, not a trace of the defensive edge it bore only moments ago.

'I'm not looking for a...' he made a brief pause but continued unwaveringly, 'porn queen. I met a girl in a room eight years ago and she's been haunting my mind ever since.'

Rory bit her lip, feeling the lump back in her throat.

'I don't want porn with you, Rory,' he said calmly, honestly, and she thought that he was the only person she knew who could make this sentence sound like a love confession.

'Sorry for making this such a big deal,' she smiled apologetically.

Jess shook his head.

'It is. A big deal. To both of us.'

He was being serious. And he had been thinking about this, too.

'And I was nervous, too,' he admitted quietly and gave her a small nod, as if asking for permission.

Rory smiled. He took her hands in his and touched his lips to them before adding,

'Not that I'm against mindblowing sex,' he shrugged. Then, in a way she found rather shy, he looked down, 'In fact, I'd very much like to make the earth move under you, but I can't promise that either.'

Yeah, he had been thinking about it.

She studied his face. His posture. This boy, her teenage love, had grown into a self-made man, a man who was usually brusque and guarded but for some reason was now kneeling in front of her, trusting her with his own self-consciousness. Suddenly she felt stupid for ever trying to run away from that man.

'I…' she started but he shook his head.

'Shhh,' he put a finger on her lips, 'you weren't ready.'

She smiled and her lips brushed his thumb.

'You're ready when you're ready. Just… let me know?'

When he saw her smile linger, he stood up and pulled her along.

'Now come on, let's eat, I'm starving.'

Rory felt something in her chest tingle. She thought it was gratitude.

* * *

><p>'Okay, mum, I'm there. Yeah, I'll call you later. What? I'll pretend you never said that. Yuk. Mom. No. Yeah, okay, bye.'<p>

Rory shook her head with a smile and hung up.

She saw him leaning against the wall of a building - the one whose address he had left her a note with. He lit a cigarette and threw a sideways glance across the street, maybe to check if she was coming. He didn't seem to have noticed her, though, so she decided to stalk until he finished his smoke. She sat on a garden wall across the street.

He had dressed up, she could tell. Saved for his uncle's wedding, she hadn't seen him wear his shirt tucked in. He must've wanted to make an impression. This history class was important to him, then.

When she woke up this morning, he had already left, leaving her a note - '_spare key_', written in his narrow scribble, with an arrow pointing at the key he had put on the bedside table, and another one with an address and _5p.m._ on it.

Under the circumstances, last night had gone rather well. They had had dinner and then he had asked her if she would like to sleep with him, literally. They spent the night scooped up in each other, and it had been a sweet torture they refused to conclude. And when she woke up, he had already left for his history class meeting.

She felt a strong desire to run across the street and take his hand, pull him along with her and just run away somewhere, watch a movie, go in a bookstore, eat junk food, roam in the park. They could do anything they wanted.

She stood up and was just about to cross the street when a redhead went out of the building and told Jess something. He nodded. Rory guessed she was in his history class. The chick was holding a cigarette. Jess put his smoke between his lips and took out his Zippo. The girl placed the cigarette between her own lips and leaned over, lighting directly from his smoke, so that her eyes aligned with Jess'. It was cheap flirting and Rory knew that, but when the chick handed him a card and he nodded, she felt a burning feeling in her upper stomach. Other students started coming out of the building and for a moment she lost sight of Jess. When the students were gone, she was already walking on her way home.

* * *

><p>Jess knocked again.<p>

'Rory, are you in there?'

The door opened, but Rory didn't go out, so he stepped in hesitantly. He closed the door after himself and turned, looking around for a light switch.

'Rory, is everything…' he called while feeling around the wall.

He didn't finish. A pair of hands pushed against his chest, leading him backwards until his back hit the inner face of the front door.

'Wha…'

Her lips found his and for a moment all he managed to do was close his hands around her, not really sure what was happening. Her lips tasted sour. Sweet. Like… like _wine_. She deepened the kiss and her hands lingered along the button line of his shirt. His mind clicked into gear and he tried to hold her head into place so that he could talk.

'Rory, what happened?' he asked exasperatedly, trying to stay focused as her fingers were quickly working his shirt.

'I waited for you after the history cla…' his voice was muffled by her mouth opening on his.

'Shhh,' she tucked his shirt out of his jeans, making his heart race faster. He felt his self-control was about to slip.

'Slow down, slow down,' he whispered, taking hold of her shoulders, tipping his head in an attempt to make out her features in the semidarkness.

'Have you been drinking?' he frowned disbelievingly.

'I'm not drunk, Jess.'

She stepped on her toes and held a breath against the corner of his mouth, looking him straight in the eye,

'I'm glad you came,' she let a breath out in a low whisper and moved her palms up his chest, letting her nails graze his skin. 'I hoped you would.'

He felt her breath against the crook of his neck, then down against his pectoral while his self-control was leading an ardent debate with his conscience. Feeling a growing urge build up in his stomach, he decided to give her a last chance to change her mind.

'Rory, you don't have to...'

'I'm letting you know, Jess.'

His mind snapped and he let his body respond to her caress.

When they crashed against the bed, he heard her say something muffled and he leaned sideways on his elbow so he could see her. Her eyes were glowing, wider then ever. There was a cryptic smile on her lips and she looked completely sober when she lifted her hand to touch his face,

'Do you feel the earth move, Jess?'

Jess felt his heart skip a beat. Or maybe it just realigned to beat in time with hers.

* * *

><p><strong>Mood song, 'Sirens' by Angels and Airwaves<strong>

**Book reference** _**- 'For Whom The Bell Tolls', **_**E. Hemingway**_**  
><strong>_

* * *

><p><strong>Reviews are welcome and anticipated.<br>**


	12. Birthday Fights, Lakes and Bites

Disclaimer: Nothing's mine. Except for Aarif, but nothing else is.

* * *

><p>'<strong>Your life is defined by its opportunities... even the ones you miss.'<strong>

_''The Curious Case of Benjamin Button''_

* * *

><p><span><strong>Chapter 12: Birthday Fights, Lakes and Bites<strong>

'So, what happened?' Jess asked quietly and kissed the crown of Rory's head.

They were lying in her bed, his left hand around her bare torso, her head resting on his chest. It was getting dark outside and the Christmas lights Rory had encircled her window frames with were flickering idly, creating a slightly surreal atmosphere.

'Well, when a boy and a girl like each other…' Rory started meaningfully and looked up at him with exaggerated seriousness.

Jess ruffled her hair with his free hand and chuckled.

'Not what I meant, Mary Poppins.'

Rory smoothed her hair and let out a small sigh.

'Yeah. I know,' she said as she nestled closer to him. He wrapped his right hand around her, too.

'Why are you asking?' she mumbled against his chest.

He shrugged.

'So that I can make it happen again,' he smirked, 'as well as all that followed.'

Rory slapped his arm slightly.

'Pig.'

'What?.' he laughed. 'I do want this to happen again,' he defended himself, 'sooner, preferably.'

'I saw you talking to that girl,' Rory shrugged and lifted her head so that her chin rested on his chest.

'That girl, okay,' Jess nodded expectantly.

Rory's eyebrows knit together in confused accusation.

'So you know what I'm talking about?'

A smile hovered Jess' lips.

'Gilmore, I have no idea what you're talking about. I was just being cooperative,' he shrugged. 'So, you saw me talking to some girl. And?'

Rory licked her lip, starting to feel just how irrational her reaction had been.

'Well, she gave you that card and she was obviously flirting with you and… well, you smiled. You don't _smile_ to people.'

'I smiled?' Jess' chest shook with laughter and Rory lifted to prop her head up against her hand.

'Okay, maybe you didn't exactly _smile_ smile, like _**smile**_, but you nodded,' she rambled and Jess' eyebrow cocked up. '_And_ you took the card,' she added, pointing her index accusingly.

'So,' Jess reasoned, visibly amused by her absurd assumptions, 'you saw me talk to some chick and take her card and, hm, let me think,' he looked up and rubbed a hand against his chin, mocking hard thinking. 'Don't tell me,' ' he pointed his index at her, 'there was also a hotel key with a room number. Or no, even better, a _garter belt_ hanging vulgarly from the card,' he guessed with emphatic excitement.

'Whatever, smartass,' Rory wrinkled her nose in discontent and swatted the hand he had stretched to touch her shoulder.

'Wicked, huh?' he teased. 'I like it when you're jealous,' he smirked conceitedly and traced her collarbone with his thumb.

'I'm not… oh, _come on_, I wasn't… forget it,' she rolled her eyes and tried to pull the sheet up and roll to the other side of the bed but Jess sat up and caught her shoulders, pulling her on top of him.

Rory tried to frown but couldn't hold back the smile.

Breaking eye-contact for just a moment, Jess took her phone receiver from the night stand and started dialing, a smug smile playing at the corners of his lips.

'What are you doing?' Rory asked disbelievingly, both amused and surprised.

'Shhh,' he put a finger before his lips, 'I'm calling a stripper. You know, so I can get you into the mood.'

For a second Rory's chin dropped.

'You're insane, gimme that phone,' she exclaimed, reaching out for the receiver. Jess, however, put his hand up so she had to reach with both hands to get it. As she did so, his attention was immediately torn from the wrestle, focusing on the considerably wider patches of her bare skin the sheet had revealed wile they were struggling.

He dropped the receiver on the bed and his hands circled her. He rolled them over so that she ended up on her back facing him. It was amazing how wide her pupils could get in record time. He liked that

'Hi,' he said a little hoarsely, observing her in excruciating detail.

_There it is, the stormy look,_ Rory thought and her heartbeat sped up as she felt his weight against her stomach.

'Hi,' she smiled in return, blushing fiercely under his gaze, but entwining her fingers with his nonetheless.

* * *

><p>Later they were drinking coffee in the kitchen when Jess suddenly snapped his fingers and exclaimed over the newspaper he was reading,<p>

'Professor Hawkins!'

'Sorry?' Rory asked above her steaming cup while flipping channels on the TV.

'It was Professor Hawkins' card,' he said, sitting on the armrest of the couch with a newspaper in hand. 'The card you saw me taking, I had forgotten to take it earlier,' he explained and slipped his hand in the back pocket of his jeans. He took it out, holding the offended card.

Rory turned on the sofa to face him and tucked her legs under her.

'I think I owe you an apology,' she smiled shyly.

'Are you kidding me?' Jess laughed, 'I think I owe the chick a drink' he said amusedly. 'Make it a bottle,' he added after a second's thought.

Rory rolled her eyes and turned back to the TV.

'Oh, look,' she exclaimed, 'they're playing a _'Pushing Daisies'_ marathon! I love that show!'

A pizza and four episodes of_ 'Pushing Daisies'_ later Rory yawned and looked up at Jess who was fighting a yawn, too.

'I'm beat,' Rory mumbled. 'Come on, let's go sleep.'

As they changed and took their places in bed, with Jess' hand outstretched for her to lie on, Rory reached over to turn off the Christmas lights. She hesitated before pulling the switch, then decided against it and shifted to sit on her ankles, meeting Jess' quizzical look.

She bit a lip.

'Can I ask you something?' she asked timidly.

Jess' eyebrows lifted. Then he traced her look and his forehead furrowed.

Rory reached out and gently touched the scar with her fingertips, tracing it across his hipbone. His abs quivered slightly. He didn't pull back.

He stared at her face as she meticulously observed the smooth scar line.

She saw it this morning, while he was sleeping. Even without the explicit medical knowledge, she could tell he had been wounded. Badly. Cut, she had thought. The scar was too smooth, it had to have been a cut. A long one. Maybe a deep one. Yeah, probably a deep one. Meant to hurt him. Maybe kill him. The thought gave her an uneasy feeling and it lingered.

'You got this in Pakistan, didn't you?' she inquired quietly, carefully.

He studied her face for a while before nodding once.

Rory bent over and left a small kiss over the scar, then sat back on her feet.

'Will you tell me what happened?' she asked softly.

His jaw clenched. She could tell this brought back memories. Unpleasant ones. Her hand found his over the mattress and she laced their fingers, waiting patiently. He could tell her not to dig. He had every right to. She hoped he would open up, though.

Jess took her hand in his and started twiddling with it between his fingers. They stood like that, staring at their hands for a while. Then Rory looked up.

'You're not telling me, are you?'

Jess shook his head. Once.

'I don't wanna lie to you,' he said quietly, meeting her gaze.

Rory studied him with pressed lips, the same way she would try to figure out a complex book.

'Okay,' she nodded.

А glint of surprise. She caught it before it was gone from his eyes. He was thankful she didn't dig.

Rory leaned forward and kissed the corner of his mouth. Like sealing a promise. She wouldn't dig. Then she turned off the lights and snuggled up to him, feeling him wrap his hands tight around her. Tighter than usual, to the point she felt slight difficulty breathing.

'I'm here,' she whispered and heard him let a breath out. 'I'm here,' she repeated and squeezed him back.

She wouldn't dig, but she hoped he would open up some day. With some luck, she would still be around when that happened.

* * *

><p>'I'm not going and that's that,' Jess grunted sulkily above his laptop.<p>

Rory perked a kiss on his temple.

'Come on, it will be fun. Luke's gonna make tons of food, mum's gonna be… you know, _mum_, Miss Patty's gonna hit on you…'

'Can't wait,' Jess scoffed and continued typing. 'Wait, Miss Patty's gonna hit on me?'

Rory grinned.

'You're a grumpy old man now, Mariano and elderly women are gonna spot you as a hunk of meat. Get used to it,' she grinned as she bent to fix the laces of her heels.

Jess rolled his eyes.

'Twenty seven is a diabolic number,' Jess said over his shoulder as he continued typing.

'Sounds pretty lucky to me,' Rory said while brushing her hair. 'Have you seen my earrings? I'm pretty sure I had a pair at your place. Oh, boy, I'm so late! Jess…'

'Huh?'

'I'm having an earring emergency, can you please cooperate? I'm running really late, just so you know,' she pleaded, lifting cushions off the couchin search for the tiny metal pieces. '_Jess_…'

'Okay, okay,' he rolled his eyes and stood up, joining her in the search.

Five minutes later Rory was putting the precious pair of earrings in front of the corridor mirror.

Jess stood propped against the door frame. His hands were in his pockets and his expression was just as sulky as five minutes ago.

'I don't wanna go,' he whined. 'The place is creepy, I don't want to be crept on my birthday. Why don't we just stay here and lock ourselves in the bedroom?' he tried. Then, a little smugly, 'I promise it's gonna be worth it.'

Rory grabbed her purse and crossed the corridor, passing him by as he opened the door for her. She had already passed through the door when she turned to plant a kiss on his lips. Pushing the elevator call button, she smoothed her skirt.

'In case you don't wanna lock yourself in the bedroom _alone_, I'm picking you up at six,' she chirped.

Then she walked into the elevator and gave him a cheerful wave just before the sliding doors hid her from view.

* * *

><p><em>12 hours later<em>

_Luke's Diner, Stars Hollow _

'What is she doing here?' Jess hissed quietly when he heard Rory follow him into the kitchen.

She closed the door after herself carefully and bit her lip.

He leaned against the kitchen plot with his back to the door.

She was worried. He could tell. He had grown used to the way her footsteps sounded over the floor in his apartment. The way they muffled over the carpet in hers. Judging only by the sound of her footsteps, he could often tell if she was tired or caffeine-high, angry or impatient, he could even tell when she felt guilty. She was worried right now. He didn't need to see her, he could tell by the way her feet hardly made any noise at all as she came in. The long pause as her hand rested on the door handle before letting go. It was another fact he had grown used to. The way he could feel her with each of his senses. He was always so damn _perceptive_ when she was concerned.

Rory observed his stiff shoulders, the way his head hung as if he was carrying a millstone. The angry vibe in his voice. She rooted herself a few steps behind and contemplated over going straight across the room and squeezing him into a tight hug, tracing his face with her fingers, easing his tense features as she did so, the way she knew she could. Their physical contact had always made sense, being more natural and unimpeded than any words they could exchange. Rory knew, as long as she could touch him, he was more willing to listen, to forgive, to understand… a subtle influence a woman had over the man she's in…

'Rory, what is she doing here?' Jess repeated and his voice slightly rose.

Rory pressed her lips. Folded her hands. Preparing for a fight. He wasn't going to make this conversation any easier, but this shouldn't come as a surprise.

'I invited them,' Rory replied steadily. He wasn't going to make it easy, but she wasn't going to help him make it harder.

'Well, you shouldn't have,' he snarled and went over to the shelf to his right where he knew Luke kept the alcohol. He picked a bottle of scotch and a glass.

Rory watched as he poured himself a drink, listening to the cheerful sound the liquid produced against the glass. She asked herself if he was right. If she shouldn't have. Hadn't she better stayed away from his complex tangle of family bonds, some of which yet unexplored even by him, some so painful she knew were beyond her power to untangle. Maybe it was really none of her business. Maybe no one could fix things betwen him and his mom, ever. Maybe. Or...

Some inner intuition of hers had driven her here, digging into his past, _no, digging into the present_, she corrected herself. _The past can't be fixed. But what you have right now could be a chance that may easily slip away, like a death that nobody witnessed, the death of an animal crossing the highway in the middle of the night, one moment it was here and the next it's gone. As if it never was or never mattered… and I don't want this chance to fade away, not before at least you see it in your hands._

'I know you'd rather be in a room full of people who wear Emo T-shirts and worship the _Twilight_ saga right now, than stay here and discuss your family matters with me…'

'Good sense of preference,' Jess gruffed, hoping this conversation would stop at this point and not get any further.

Rory breathed in and out before continuing.

'It's about Doula, Jess. Not about your mom, not about me prying in, it's about Doula. You've only seen her like… twice? When she was a baby and then, on her fourth birthday…'

'Can we skip the time reference and get to the point now?' he asked stiffly and took a gulp of the golden liquid in his glass before lifting it to his eye level and observing it with a hint of amusement.

_Barley. It was meant to feed chickens. It ferments and then again, it feeds chickens. Helps them forget more easily._

'She's a great kid, Jess,' Rory said quietly and stepped closer so that she was right in front of him now.

'So I've heard.'

She reached forward and rubbed his elbow gently, keeping the eye contact.

'Will it hurt you to be nice to your little sister?' Rory asked and moved still closer, so that he was half embracing her. 'I knew you'd get defensive, cause it's really early for you to deal with this right now,' she put her palm on his chest and felt his heart thump eloquently.

'I don't want to push you. Jess, I don't,' Rory repeated firmly as she saw the skepticism written over his face. 'I think that with time, you'll get there yourself,' she continued in a low, gentle, hypnotizing voice. 'You'll get to know her, talk to her, read to her, maybe even try to talk her into reading broody Hemingway… Who knows, maybe some day you'll let her take you to the bumper cars or ride you piggyback… Only by that time she might be too old to ride piggyback and I… I don't want you to miss it, cause it's a damn good thing being this close to someone. She's growing up so fast, Jess. She's six, turning seven this August and you're missing it. You're missing it without even knowing what you've missed.'

"_And yet women-good women - frightened me because they eventually wanted your soul, and what was left of mine, I wanted to keep."_ Bukowski's words came into Jess' mind and he let out a dry laugh. It was something that he could well imagine Aarif saying, and at that very moment, that seemed pretty hilarious, comparing Aarif to Charles, two men so different you could tell they couldn't be compared at all.

As she heard him laugh, Rory stepped one step back and studied his face. It had involuntarily shifted into a painful grimace and for the first time Rory thought Jess might lose his cool. She had seen him bark when he got all defensive and stuff, she had seen him confess or compromise or even beg, but he had never really lost control over his reactions. Somehow she felt that if he ever did, it would most probably be because of his family. Whatever that meant in his hed right now.

'Piggy back, huh?' he asked bitterly and downed his drink. 'Wanna know what **my** seventh birthday was like? She had invited all those washed up and neatly combed to the side kids she thought were good to be friends with. We had just moved in that funny apartment in California we couldn't afford, but she was so sure we'd be able to pull it off, being all loaded and prosperous and stuff, she had even started helping in some geriatric center, cause the cash was good. We were playing hide and seek when that snotty kid Toby, I swear I've never seen another kid with such runny nose, came into the kitchen and cried out, _Jess, your mom is dead, she's in the bathroom and she's dead_…' Jess paused and shook his head without looking up to Rory. His expression was distant, as if he wasn't talking to her, but more to himself.

'I called 911 and told them Jess Mariano from 29th Willmar Blvd. was calling and...' he swallowed and Rory wished she had never raised the question, she wished they had locked themselves back in NY, back in his room, away from Stars Hollow and away from Caliornia, away from all those things he wanted to escape and she brought him back to.

'They didn't believe me at first,' he continued dryly, 'so I had to call the neighbor, an old gossiping spinster. When she saw Liz, she gave me that look and said, _I knew it, boy, the moment I saw her, I knew it,_ and clicked her tongue. It turned out Liz took some painkillers from work and tried to **party**.'

Rory watched his face wince at the last word. She wanted to tell him something, do something, but all she could think of was nod once, although he couldn't see her while staring into his glass blindly. 'Sometimes I feel like I'm lying on the railway and you're driving the train,' he said and looked up. 'Sorry,' he added quickly. As if waking from a dream, Jess seemed surprised as he saw her pain-inflicted expression. 'I don't know why I said that,' he shook his head. 'I can't be here right now,' he added and left his empty glass before walking out of the room, leaving Rory stare at the translucent glass numbly. In a few seconds she felt her eyes go blurry.

* * *

><p><em>You were blessed by<br>a different kind of inner view  
>it's all magnified.<br>The highs would make you fly,  
>and the lows make you want to die<em>

_And I was once there,_  
><em>hanging from that very ledge where you are standing.<em>  
><em>So I know, I know, I know<em>  
><em>It's easier to let go<em>

* * *

><p>Jess sat down on the bridge, leaving his feet hang loose above the silent water. He could see his reflection over the smooth surface where a few petals were skimming the surface.<p>

Jess took out his Zippo and flipped it in his hand a couple of times before lighting a cigarette. He dragged a deep breath, loaded with nicotine, but almost choked down on it as he felt a sudden push on his back and the next moment he found himself in the water, shaking the water off his head, the unfortunate cigarette swimming a few feet from him. He looked up at the bridge, trying to figure out what just happened, and saw a six-year old blonde staying with her hands crossed before her skinny chest and her eyes glaring at him. What, was pushing him into lakes also genetic?

'Never make Rory cry again, dodo!' Doula warned him in what she thought was her most menacing voice. Jess blinked a couple of times, taking in her words, water drops streaming down his face. Dodo? Really? Did anybody use that word? Rory. Cry. He made her cry. Did he?

_Yeah, moron, of course you did._

Jess ran a hand through his wet hair as he made his way out of the water and shook off the little rivers that were running down his skin.

'Go home, kiddo,' Jess sighed as he passed her by and made his way to the other end of the bridge.

Doula started walking after him, keeping her little arms crossed before her chest. Jeez, was she going to follow him now?

'Honestly, kid, I wouldn't follow if I were you,' Jess snarled to the side as he started to walk faster with his little sister at his heels. She had the same warning expression on her face, showing she was ready for a fight with the nasty stranger who was so grumpy on his own birthday and who was supposed to be her big brother. But she followed, anyway. And it felt ridiculously hard to nonchalantly stick your hands into your pockets when your jeans were dripping with water and felt sealed to your legs.

'Okay, now, why are you following me?' Jess asked as he stopped abruptly and Doula almost bumped into his legs. He was feeling a sneeze build up in his airways, he was at the end of his nerve and he didn't really need any more of the how-can-you-be-so-insensitive sermon he always got to hear whenever he got back into this devilish town.

'Mom says I shouldn't be bad with people…' Doula admitted, her voice still bristly, 'unless they really deserve it,' she finished belligerently and Jess suppressed a smile.

_She told you right_, he thought against his will.

'But Rory told me you were a clam that could bark,' Doula added seriously, as if she was reciting a geography lesson. Temperament geography. Very lyrical.

Jess' eyebrows lifted. Rory told Doula. Rory talked to Doula. Rory talked to Doula about him. A barking clam. Really? His temple started to ache.

'Whatever,' he concluded after studying her face for a couple of seconds and then turned to get back on his way to wherever that little alley by the lake led.

'Why do you hate us so much?' the little voice carried to his ears and made him freeze in his place. The question echoed a couple of times in his mind before he was able to nudge his brain back to coherent functioning.

_For fuck's sake, Mariano, what are you doing?_

'I don't hate you,' Jess said seriously as he turned back to meet Doula's now watery chocolate brown eyes, reminding him so much of his own. 'I _am_ a barking clam,' he added just as seriously. 'Most of the time. Not all of it.'

The little girl nodded with understanding. She really did take the whole temper geography lesson seriously.

'I know,' Doula said, her voice now traced with a chipper vibe. 'I know you write books,' she added. 'Rory read your book to me.'

'Huh,' Jess half groaned, half exclaimed. Something between his lungs seemed to change its course for a milisecond. Brown eyes stared into brown for a long moment.

'C'mon,' Jess sighed and made her a sign to follow. 'Let's go back.'

Doula started after him and held on to the rim of his jacket. They walked side by side, keeping the silence.

'Sorry I pushed you into the lake,' Doula mumbled when they crossed the bridge.

'It's okay,' Jess heard himself mumble in reply.

* * *

><p><em>But I will learn to breathe<em>  
><em>this ugliness you see,<em>  
><em>So we can both be there and we can both share the dark.<em>  
><em>And in our honesty, together we will rise out of our nightminds<em>  
><em>And into the light at the end of the fight...<em>

* * *

><p><strong>Lyrics used in the chapter are from the song 'Nightminds', performed by Missy Higgins<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Thanks to all who took the time to read:)<strong>

**Reviews are better than chocolate!:):):)**


	13. There Comes the Fear

**AN: I don't own anything - only my imagination... and sometimes it tends to be haunted by ideas I hardly recognize... but, anyway, the characters belong to the show, I only got Aarif:)**

_* To anyone who may be curious what took me so long to update, I've been suffering a severe writer's block, so please forgive me for the considerable delay and THANK YOU to all those who decided to keep up with the story anyway:):):) Please excuse any trash writing you may further encounter, I had to finally post this chapter or else I felt like I'd never be able to write anything else in my life, ever! /See, THAT's how severely this block got me!/_

_Anyway, don't ever doubt that, as always, I hope you enjoy!:)* _

* * *

><p><strong>'Fear is the cheapest room in the house. I would like to see you living in better conditions.' <strong>

**Hāfez**

* * *

><p>Rory felt the muscles under her palms clench, tense up with power and emotion, and then relax, hot breath against her ear, sending pleasure jolts down her spine.<p>

When their eyes made contact again, she felt a new feeling enter her system, overpowering her whole being with such sudden and great force that it was quickly replaced by a subtle fear whispering 'watch out'. Just a thought, a simple realization that made Rory's rational self-defense get ready for a fight with her intuitive, sensitive half.

Rory remembered reading somewhere that best lovemaking was in close relation to the strength of the partners' desire to destroy each other. At this moment it crystallized in her mind that it was somewhat true. Every time she was this close to him, she felt a part of her get destroyed. The part that had thought she could ever be happy without him. The part that had stubbornly repeated she would be able to gather the pieces if they set each other to crumbles again.

Jess' eyes were still blurry, but he felt the distinct change of her composure and his hand held her face in place, his thumb gently but purposefully framing her chin, his eyes searching.

'You okay?' he mumbled, his voice still low and hoarse, but apprehension making its way through. His index finger traced her cheekbone while his eyes dwelt in hers. Blue. So blue he could drown in their ocean. And now there was this unknown, stormy and restless current that had replaced the peaceful cobalt serenity and Jess was determined to understand what had brought the change there.

Rory nodded twice. Fast. Trying to convince herself rather than him. She was okay... right? She pushed his torso slightly so that they disentangled and he rested on his side, confused, nervous, exposed.

'I...' she tried to start as she sat up in the bed and fidgeted with the sheet before her chest. Rory tried to look at him but her eyes began to tingle and she looked down again. Her heart thumped in her throat.

Jess took a breath and then let it out loudly, sitting up in the bed next to her, dragging the other sheet up with himself. He hated feeling uncomfortable in her presence, but right now he felt something was going on and he couldn't relax before he found out what it was. He swallowed dryly and forced himself to look at her.

'Rory...'he began as gently as he could make his voice sound given how increasingly freaked out he was starting to feel. He could swear his temple pulse was audible in the room, how could it not be, it was hammering nails in his head. 'What's wrong?'

_Are you hurt? No, you're not. Is it work? Of course not, wouldn't come up _now_. You're gonna confess something, aren't you? You're nervous, or... or is it guilt? You met someone, is that what it is? Another guy? Rory? Talk to me. You have to talk to me...  
><em>

'Jess_,_' Rory started and he held a breath. 'I've never been happier,' she confessed quickly and searched his reaction timidly, biting her lip.

Her words left Jess open-mouthed and he seemed unable to articulate. In a few seconds he managed to gain some of his cool back and let the breath out.

'Jeez, Rory,' Jess sighed and reached a hand to draw her next to him. 'You scared the hell out of me,' he shook his head and kissed the top of hers, letting the relief wash over him.

'I scared _you_? You have no idea how it scared _me_,' Rory mumbled against his chest.

'Well, _thank_ you,' he chuckled in her hair, his index finger leaving gentle traces over her shoulder.

'Jess,' Rory shifted uneasily and sat up in the bed again so that she was facing him.

So, there _was_ something more. Something that freaked her out.

_Okay, then, Gilmore, there you go, load the gun, shoot._

Jess nodded once, so that she knew he was listening intently. Her fingers were squeezing the sheet before her chest self-consciously. Porcelain-like, slender and delicate, she had always had what it took to go past his guard. _Come on, Rory, like a bullet, smooth and fast._

'What if this is '_it_'? I never thought _'Maybe this is it'_, but now... with you, tonight, I thought it. _This is it_, I thought, _it's Jess_. Oh my God,' she shook her head and put her knuckles before her lips frustratedly.

Rory Gilmore had turned down enough marriage proposals to know what it felt like when someone wasn't _'it'_. She had been happy with other men, of course, some of them rather her friends, others rather her loves. She had experienced deliriously happy moments in her other relationships, but none of them ever was 'it'. And now... now was a whole new story.

Jess studied her face and put a hand over her bare knee, left uncovered by the sheet. He rewound her previous ramble in his head and leaned forward.

'If it is, if _it's Jess_... is it so bad?' he asked quietly, seriously, almost conspiratorially, his eyes not leaving hers.

Rory opened her mouth and then closed it. If it is, _if it's Jess_...

'What if we don't work out?' she shrugged helplessly, her rational self taking the better of her.

'So far, we have,' Jess answered simply.

Rory swallowed once and nodded. He was right. They had worked out. So far. Six months. Happiest six months in her life.

'Isn't it supposed to feel easy, realizing you've found it with someone, isn't it supposed to make you feel relieved?' she asked incredulously.

'I don't know,' Jess shrugged pensively and as he saw her features tense, he shook his head and smiled, 'I mean, I don't know what_ it's_ _supposed_ to feel like. From what I know since I was seventeen, it _never_ felt easy. Not once.'

_ It bugs you and eats on you, reminds you that you're born incomplete, that you wouldn't be half the things you are without the other person believing you could pull it off, a fixation on someone, making you feel like a damn addict. And it kinda makes you one. Makes you feel spineless and vulnerable, but also try harder, kicks you in the ass to be more than you thought you'd be just because someone believed that you could write a book. I don't know what other people feel like. To me, it never felt easy._

Rory blinked a couple of times and her hand found his over her knee.

'It's not that bad,' she admitted shyly and smiled. 'In fact, I think I may get used to it.'

* * *

><p>'When are you gonna tell me about your new job?' Rory asked, holding the mush melon she had just washed in the sink in her hands.<p>

'It's not a job, just a temporary... _thing_, so there's nothing to be told,' Jess scoffed as he wiped the mush melon with a kitchen towel so that Rory could take it to the bar plot.

'Oh, _come on_,' Rory protested in a high pitched voice, waving a knife in the air before cutting the melon in half. 'Everything you've been getting paid for doing for more than a month classifies as a job, and you've been hiding what you're working on ever since you got that new **job**, so stop sneaking around the question and _answer_ it,' she blurted out, proving the Gilmore gene as one that would do great deal of good to a scuba-diver when it came to holding your breath.

Jess shrugged.

'Nothing I can add,' he said nonchalantly while trying to get a slice of the cantaloupe under Rory's hands, getting swatted twice in the process.

'Tell me.' Rory insisted stubbornly and put the knife down on the plot loudly.

'No.'

'I know you must be writing a column or something, cause you're typing all the time,' Rory started cunningly, changing tactics. 'Just tell me and I'll let you eat the whole cantaloupe,' she tried to bargain.

'Mmm, let me think...' Jess rubbed his temple with his knuckles, pretending to be thinking hard. 'No, I don't think so.'

'Wha... Oh, _come on_, Mariano, tell me or you won't see my face show up at your door again for the next couple of decades!' Rory insisted in a childishly stubborn manner. 'Plus I won't ever play striptease poker with you if you don't confess!' she added with a flair of innocence.

Jess blinked twice.

'You can't play poker,' he pointed out stolidly.

'Exactly,' Rory replied with a meaningful wink.

Jess' eyebrows lifted.

'Okay, I'll tell you,' he agreed ambiguously and Rory's face lightened up, 'some day,' he added.

'When?' Rory asked, leaning forward to look him in the eye.

'Right before I die,' he stated seriously and Rory's nose wrinkled while she was trying to hold back a smile.

'Is it something illegal?' she asked doubtfully, remembering her mother's opinion on the subject when she had the same conversation with her two days ago.

'Dying with a stripping woman around? No, I don't think so,' he deadpanned after a beat of thoughtful silence.

Rory rolled her eyes.

'Here, smartass,' she sighed as she gave him a slice of the mush melon, 'How's publisher hunt going? You were meeting that Boston guy Perkins yesterday, right?' she changed topic suddenly, catching Jess off guard.

His expression darkened visibly.

'Still pursuing,' he replied sulkily. 'They're only appointing these meetings to tick some work off their schedules, justifying their salaries and all. However the conversation twists, the final answer's always _'In terms of the GFC our firm policy has become rather cautious, you know, but we do wish you good luck_.'

Rory listened thoughtfully and shook her head.

'I told you to call Shirley Whitman from Foreign Affairs Books, she has always shown special interest in Pakistan, I really think she's just who you need.' Rory started enthusiastically.

'Huh,' Jess made a dismissive gesture with his hand, 'Shirley is a seventy-year-old spinster.'

'Sixty-eight,' Rory corrected him.

'As much as that changes everything, still no,' he shrugged while taking a bite of the cantaloupe.

'And she's not a spinster. I've been on her lectures, Jess, she's phenomenal, she's timeless...'

'She's sixty-eight, she's bound to be,' Jess cut in, still chewing.

'Jess!'

'Sorry,' he put his hands up in mock defense, then left the cantaloupe peel on the table and headed for the sofa where he had left a book he had started this morning.

'You have to call her. I promise you'll change your mind the moment you get to know her.' She gave him a sizing look. 'God, you can be so conservative, you're just like Luke.'

Jess grunted and looked over his book.

'I'm not conservative. I _am_ reading your _"Three cups"_, after all,' he pointed out.

Rory's eye squinted and she shook her head.

'I told you to read_ "Three Cups of Tea"_.'

Jess smirked over the book.

'I _am_ reading it. Right after _"Three Cups of Deceit"_.'

'Can you ever believe someone's good intentions?'

_'Never mistake motion for action,' _Jess quoted nonchalantly, getting back to his book.

_The best way to find out if you can trust somebody is to trust them,_ Rory quoted, too, but kept it to herself. By now she knew well enough that people were pretty much like quicksilver and in this particular case she suspected he was gonna dart away the moment she tried to hold him into place._ I won't clutch,_ she told herself for the hundredth time this week, but sometimes when she tried to leave her fingers open, she wasn't sure whether her hand was empty or full.

* * *

><p>'Yeah, the manuscript is now ready, I sent you a copy. No, Celia, really, you should give it a look. <em>"Ruhi"<em> is the best you'll read in ages, I promise...' Matt held a breath while waiting for a reply from the other end of the line.

Chris walked into the room, balancing a considerable pile of books in his hands and a muffin between his teeth.

'Yeah, of course I...' Matt's face twisted into a painful grimace and that caught Chris' attention. He left the books on his desk and put the muffin down, laying it over a napkin next to the window. Then he devoted himself to inspecting the intriguing ways Matt's features were shifting right now.

'Ahmm, yeah,' Matt mumbled, his voice getting thinner, his hand curling into a fist in the air, 'sure I'd love to,' he said almost between his teeth, his fingers twisting in peculiar ways. 'So, see you... _Celia_.'

Matt hung his mobile with a theatrical gesture of relief and met Chris' questioning look.

'What ya looking at?' Matt growled. 'I just male-prostituted myself into dating Dragon Woman, so wipe that witty smirk off your smug face and call Mariano. Tell this smartass we may have just got him a publisher.'

Matt tapped his fingers over the first page of the manuscript lying on his desk. It read _"Ruhi is _Soul_ in Urdu"_. Matt focused his eyes on the title and then dialed another number on his mobile.

* * *

><p>Rory fumbled around the empty side of the bed and opened her eyes. When she adjusted to the darkness, she stood up, picking Jess' shirt and wrapping it round her shoulders on her way.<p>

When she entered the living room, nothing indicated Jess' presence, saved for the slightest hint of tobacco, coming in with the cool October air through the half-shut balcony door.

'Hey,' she mumbled, leaning on the door frame, as if asking for a permission to join him on the balcony.

Jess looked up from the armchair he was sitting in, smoking, his legs stretched forward, an ashtray and an unfinished glass of whiskey on the small table beside him.

'Hey,' he echoed dryly.

The night autumn sky was clear, with an almost full moon throwing light over a sleepless city where one person trying to get to another was a task almost as hard as the one of a planet trying to enter another planet's orbit without making it spin off its axis.

Rory stepped from one foot to the other, wrapping her hands around herself.

'You're up.' Jess noted as-a-matter-of-factly and pulled at his cigarette before putting it down to rest in the ashtray.

'So are you,' Rory countered.

Jess' eyebrow lifted and he inspected her for a moment before shifting to take off his jacket and pass it on to her. Rory nuzzled herself in the jacket and felt it still kept some of Jess' body warmth. She stepped closer to touch his shoulder before moving a foot over so that she sat straddling him.

Jess straightened up and his hands automatically found their place round her waist.

Rory moved a hand up to stroke his cheek and he leaned in to her touch.

'Jess, talk to me,' she whispered when their foreheads touched. 'For once, please just talk to me.'

She felt so small and delicate under his jacket, under his shirt, his palms, her skin soft against his palms. So fragile Jess feared this utopia would be swept away the next time wind didn't blow in his direction. And wind wasn't blowing in his direction. Not lately.

Another call from the bank, another letter reminding him of bills he had long put on hold. For how long could he stand this avalanche that had started soon after he got the serial publisher's refusal? Working two places could somehow provide him with enough money for his rent. However, without getting his book published, he could never pay his debts off. Two years in Pakistan had been a financial harakiri, as Chris had defined it. But had he a chance to go back, Jess knew he would do it all over again. Every minute of these two years was worth it, it had led him where he was now, but at the same time he could well feel himself rolling down a treacherous slope and the only thing keeping his focus was this slender creature in his arms.

_'You ever eaten lemon with honey?' Aarif had asked him once. 'The taste of life, never simply bitter or sweet, always both.'_

_For once, please just talk to me_, echoed in his mind. Jess opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out and he shook his head.

'Bad week,' he sighed and shrugged nonchalantly. 'Don't read too much into it.'

'There's always something more to it.' Rory countered quietly and took the cigarette he had reached for out of his hand. She pulled at the fag and then let the smoke out slowly before giving the cigarette back to Jess. He watched her bewildered.

'Keeping it to yourself won't make it go away,' Rory said and tried to stand up, but Jess' hand rested firmly on the small of her back to keep her into place.

'Kids stories,' came out of his mouth before he could think of anything better to say. 'It's a goodnight kids stories column in 'The New York Daily',' he uttered and their eyes locked for a long moment.

_Keeping it to myself won't make it go away, it will make _you_ go away... But I need some time, Ror. I can't tell you everything, not now. I will, I fucking will, but I have to sort things out myself first. Then I'll tell you what you want to know, not tonight. Tonight I just need you to be here.  
><em>

'Any particular reason why you kept that information classified?' Rory asked incredulously.

'Any particular reason why I shouldn't reckon it deeply embarrassing?' Jess shrugged and concentrated on their laced fingers.

Rory bit her lip as she studied his face. A_ children's stories column._ _God, Mariano, how is that embarrassing? And what's with the bad week? What are you not telling me, Jess?_

Before she had time to formulate her next question, Jess cupped her chin in his hands, drawing her closer as his lips caught hers. Rory let out an unconscious whimper at the feel of his teeth slightly graze her lower lip, one of his palms already traveling down her side under the fabric of the cotton shirt and then up again. He claimed full control of the kiss, kissing her deeper, harder, pulling her even tighter.

_You're not telling me, are you? _In another place, in another time, they had already had this conversation. And it always came back to those initial trust issues that could draw them closer or draw them apart, all depending on the perspective.

_Tonight I just need you to be here..._ Jess opened his eyes to take in the sight of her beautifully composed features, her eyes still closed in blissful delight at his touch. There was a part of him that wanted to mark her, leave hot imprints over her skin so that it would keep the craving memory of his touch no matter where she went. It was a primitive impulse, the one that made a human being feel possessive of another one, but this instinct was laid too deep in human nature to ignore and Jess didn't claim to be an exception.

_That's a pretty good answer... _Years ago his actions had raised a havoc of emotions in her and what had taken the better of her then was confusion. Now here they were again, facing the reality of a new situation, but how new, exactly? Whenever he faced some difficulty in his life, he became that barking clam, closed in in himself, his lips sealed for the answers of her questions. Being evasive was some deep self-preserving habit he had learned from early childhood, but in a relationship that was a habit that could eat away the fragile balance between her patience and her doubts.

Rory felt like she was losing herself, melting into his arms, her body arching in tandem with his moves. His palms had crept up under the thin cotton of the shirt, modelling her thin figure as they pleased, his breathing rather shallow in between kisses. She was slightly surprised by the intensity of his body language. She knew him to be passionate, of course, ever since their first encounter she had known that, but even in the most intimate of moments she had always felt he was restraining some part of himself within, something that gave him power over his own instincts, something that kept his cool no matter what. In this particular instance she felt some of Jess' guard fall down, letting some deeply intuitive and sincere part of him come to the surface. For some reason it felt like this was a giant step into the trust issue, a confession, an insight of him he was letting her see and Rory responded the only way she felt right to - spontaneously and sincerely.

Rory gasped quietly as Jess' hands closed around the small of her back and he stood up, picking her up with himself, taking her into the room as his clothes fell off her shoulders.

* * *

><p>Jess put out the cigarette butt against the stone wall he had been sitting on and ran a hand through his hair. Perhaps for the thousandth time this evening, he threw a look at the manuscript that lay beside him and exhaled loudly.<p>

Another gust of wind threatened to scatter the typed sheets in all directions and Jess moved his leg to press them against the cold stone surface. He turned his jacket collar up and took a cigarette pack out, ducking his head between his shoulders as he lit a cigarette with a sharp flip of his Zippo. The light flickered once before another gust of wind swept it away. Somewhere far above the building roofs an airplane light blinked and disappeared between the clouds, leaving a sombre gray-blue sky behind. Jess shook his head and took a deep breath loaded with nicotine.

A door opened and closed in the opposite building and it fully caught Jess' attention as a young woman made her way out of the Foreign Affairs Bookstore. He put the cigarette out a little frustratedly and took the manuscript in one hand before he jumped off the wall to his feet. He made his way across the street rather hastily, his fingers curling around the sheet bundle.

'We're closed,' an old lady's voice carried to Jess' ears just as he went into the bookstore and the bell over the door rang cheerfully. He rooted himself to the spot and both of his hands clutched at the manuscript, making him look a bit like a schoolboy in the principle's office.

'Sorry, we're closed,' the voice repeated and a short thin elderly woman came into Jess' sight from behind one of the bookshelves, adjusting her shawl with one hand while holding her old-fashioned handbag with the other.

Shirley Whitman was a woman in her late sixties about five feet tall, with a bony structure and pale blue piercing eyes fixed questioningly on Jess'.

'I know,' Jess' voice came out dryly and he cleared his throat as he reached one hand out and attempted a smile. 'Jess Mariano,' he presented himself stiffly and licked a lip. 'I sent you a couple of...'

'Emails, I know that,' the elderly lady cut him. 'Plus a couple of phone calls on my answering machine. I can't think of a way to be in any favor to you, young man, so would you please...' she tried to make her way past Jess, but he stepped sideways so that he blocked her way, meeting her surprised gaze.

'Miss Whitman, with all my respect, we both know you can.'

The expression on Miss Shirley Whitman's face could turn bonfires into icicles and Jess winced involuntarily, but didn't step aside.

'Mr. Mariano, step out of my way,' Miss Whitman said quietly but pointedly and the air in the room seemed to have gone ten degrees colder.

Jess took a breath and his eyes flickered.

'I'm afraid you'll have to hear me out first,' he said, his voice coming out low and confident this time.

Miss Whitman's lips turned white, pressed against each other.

'Nobody ever told me what I'd have to do, Mr. Mariano. Step back or we'll meet in court.'

Jess nodded and a strange smile played on his lips' ends. He felt like he was acting out of himself, watching his own reflection from a distance.

'Fair enough,' he agreed. 'Just read the first page and I'll cuff myself alone... please.' He added the last word after a short pause, after thinking it over.

Whether it was the desperation of Jess' actions or the fear that some loony pseudo-writer was taking her hostage, Shirley Whitman took the manuscript from Jess' stretched hand and started to leave.

'You really expect me to read it here?' she asked disbelievingly as the young man stood in her way again. Jess gave her a short nod.

'You need help, boy,' the elder woman shook her head with a hint of sympathy as she watched a sweat drop roll down the young man's temple. He was pale, his breathing nonrhythmic, his hands slightly shaking.

'Then I've come exactly to the right place,' Jess answered quietly and a flash ran through his eyes as he watched the old lady adjust her glasses and start to read his manuscript.

* * *

><p>'You really took Shirley Whitman hostage in order to force her into reading your script?' Rory said disbelievingly as they walked out of Jess' car and headed for her block of flats through the snow. 'God, this must have been harsh,' she shook her head and thumped her boots at the stairs to her building, snow falling off their welts.<p>

Jess followed her up the stairs to her apartment door without answering. Rory handled him the bags with groceries so that she she could dig the keys out of her handbag and open the door.

'Taken her hostage is a pretty exaggerated way to put it,' Jess pointed out and was about to add something just as his cell phone rang in the pocket of his jacket.

'Can you take it?' Jess asked while trying to balance the grocery bags and take his shoes off without using his hands at the same time.

'Sure,' Rory nodded as she threw the keys on the corridor shelf and took the mobile out of Jess' pocket. 'Hello, Jess Mariano's extremely good looking and intelligent secretary speaking,' Rory chirped and stuck her tongue out as Jess' rolled eyes. 'Hello, Miss Valentino from Abroad Books... yeah...' Rory listened to the woman at the other end of the line intently and didn't register the sudden change in Jess' expression as he heard the name of the publishing company. 'He got the assignment in case he's still interested in leaving for Liberia,' Rory repeated almost mechanically, her face suddenly drawn out of color. 'Thank you,' she said in a choked in voice before hanging up.

'You're leaving again,' she said quietly more to herself than to Jess and the mere sound of the words sent chill jolts down her spine.

Jess stood rooted before her, holding the groceries, his expression a mixture of surprise, guilt and confusion.

* * *

><p><strong>Mood songs, 'Perfect Girl' by Sarah McLachlan and 'Anti Hero', T.M.O. &amp; Fuxle acoustic cover version.<br>**

* * *

><p><strong>Thank you guys for reading, really hope you enjoyed, promise next chapter won't take this long, 'cause it's already half-written:)<br>Reviews are pie:):):)  
><strong>


	14. My Secrets Become Your Truth

**AN: I don't own anything but my imagination and Aarif /who's kinda my imagination's work, anyway/:P I don't own the characters and I make no profit out of them.**

* * *

><p><em><strong>'Sometimes you'll see two hands pressed hard against each other, thumbs intertwined, clenching firmly, and it's hard to tell if they're bound together in a love hold or if they're wrestling, Canadian style. And what tells one from the other can be... faith?'<strong>_

_**'That's insane,' Jess shook his head.  
><strong>_

_**Aarif shrugged and a smile hovered his lips. 'Life tends to be.'**_

* * *

><p><span>Previously:<span>

_'You're leaving again,' she said quietly more to herself than to Jess and the mere sound of the words sent chill jolts down her spine._

_Jess stood rooted before her, holding the groceries, his expression a mixture of surprise, guilt and confusion._

* * *

><p><strong>Mood song, 'In Between Love', Tom Waits<strong>

* * *

><p>'Oh my god…' Rory whispered, unable to move.<p>

'Rory…'

'You're leaving again,' she uttered.

'No.' Jess tried to stress the one-syllable.

'And you kept this from me,' Rory reasoned, oblivious to him.

'What! No!' Jess left the grocery bags on the floor and made a step towards her.

She gave him a stern look and he lifted his hands in the air.

'Technically, yes, but I didn't think they'd ever …'

'Oh my god.'

'Rory…'

'I'm such a fool,' she whispered and her look seemed to pass through him.

'Oh, come on, Rory, you don't really think I'd leave like this… you do.' He concluded as he saw the expression on her face. _Because I did leave like this_, he thought. _Multiple times._

He approached her closely and put his hands on the sides of her arms, rubbing them slightly.

'It's just a phone call, Ror,' he began, his voice low and gentle, making a short pause to regain his cool. He did his best to suppress the little panic whirl that threatened to take the better of him any second now. He breathed, instead.

'I know we have history, but I can't reverse what's already done,' he continued. Rory stood like hypnotized and Jess knew that another conversation was already going on in her own mind, one between her and her own reasonable self. _Breathe, Mariano, just breathe. Pick the words and breathe_. 'I would, but I can't. You have to believe me here, Ror, I promise you…'

'Don't,' she cut him, breaking his half-embrace. 'Don't promise me anything,' she stepped back abruptly and shook her head, as if to confirm her disbelief. Jess felt a dull feeling start in his stomach, making his guts cringe as he watched the distance between them grow. The whirl started to revolve, starting from his stoned feet.

'Rory, _please_. Just listen to me.' Jess stood in place, feeling the panic overwhelm him slowly as he studied her face. She was pulling away, she had never pulled away.

'I need to be alone,' Rory said quietly. Not gently, not even hurt… _disdainful_.

Her voice bore no affection. He had never heard that voice from her – isolated and building up a barrier between them. She had been mad at him before, but when they quarreled, he could always feel that she cared. There was some intimacy in their arguments that gave him a perverted feeling of possession; you didn't have these fights with someone you didn't care about. But now she didn't seem to care where he would go, if he would come back, she only wanted him to go away, leave her alone. That freaked him out.

'You like it, don't you – this 'can't be together' love thing. You want to see sacrifice made for you, readiness to give up anything for your sake, throw it all aside. You see something, jump to conclusions that aren't even remotely granted by any real evidence, and suddenly it's a matter of life and death – with or without. You just want to get a _proof_, right, miss Francon?' he paused to take a breath and met her eyes. They were flashing, which raised his hopes up a little. Maybe there was some chance for them to turn this into a proper argument and maybe after that they could talk it over, the way they had every other time during these six months.

'I liked it in a book, when I was sixteen, you're the one putting it to action in your own life, claiming to be a grown-up man. The conclusions I drew are granted by nothing but your actions, Jess – you were the one running for years. You make some great step ahead, you make progress, you run before you can get any feedback. That's what you do, isn't it, Mr Roark?'

_Claiming to be a grown-up man?_ _**Claiming**_**?**. Seriously? He had built up a life, a vague resemblance of a career, even. He had gone half the world and come back with the mere thought of seeing her again. He had moved towns, for god's sake! Started anew, put up with a rent he could hardly afford, working hard for Truncheon from a distance, writing _children's short stories_, for god's sake, so that he _didn't_ actually have to offer the editors a sequel and he _didn't_ have to leave again. So that he didn't have to spend a day _without_ being able to see her, be where she was, go where she went, hear what she said and then mock it, enjoying how furious it made her as he did so…

She had seen more of him than he had ever thought of letting even himself see… but yet, it wasn't enough to make her believe him. Didn't those six months mean anything? No matter what he did, he'd never be good enough for her, would he?

'If I say yes, you can go find the next dream boyfriend who will hold your hand until it dries and love him as you wish, right?'

'Don't let me and I won't!' her eyes blazed. 'Have you got _any_ idea what it felt like when you left? God, Jess, we talked that day and you didn't say a word. I know you had your reasons, told myself to be objective, but it sucked! Objectiveness sucks, Jess, I felt so full I could've exploded, I had so many things I wanted to tell and to talk about, but you were nowhere to be seen and I just kept them to myself and they _ate_ me! For months, they _ate_ me! And it's not only my trust in you that you shattered, it's my trust in my own judgement that broke off then. I had to know better, I had to see it coming and I did, only it was too late. I hated you then. I hated myself for not being able to hate you properly, because no matter what you did, there was always a part of me that found excuses, hoped and waited. And when you came on Winter's festival and told me you loved me, you didn't even have the courage to wait for an answer. And there you came back, months later, asking me to leave it all behind and follow you into the sunset, and I wished I could, but you disappeared soon enough, so I… So, I suppose love isn't enough,' she shook her head, suddenly feeling numb and tired. 'It's just the beginning. There are other things like trust and perseverance and without them we'll always find ourselves back here, unable to move on. I can't do this yo-yo anymore, Jess, I thought this time it was different, but it never is, is it? History repeats itself, another thing I should've known better.'

Jess met her eyes and held the eye lock for a while. For a second he thought he saw his own reflection in the blue havoc of them and it was a distorted Jess he saw there. A Jess who had consciously blown his chances numerous times, knowing what he had put at risk and ignoring it. He felt immediately sorry for being such a moron and not telling her earlier. He would have, had she not heard the damn message before he had gathered the courage to. Too late now.

'Rory…' he started, his voice a little hoarse.

She pressed her fingertips against her lips and shook her head, salty drops forming in her eyes.

'I can't do this again, Jess. I'm sorry.'

* * *

><p><em>Car is parked, bags are packed, but what kind of heart doesn't look back<br>At the comfortable glow from the porch, the one I will still call yours?  
>* * *<em>

Jess leaned back in the driver's seat and closed his eyes, trying to get the last couple of minutes out of his mind. In vain. She had crept up under his skin in too deeply. He wished Aarif was somewhere around so he could talk to him. It seemed so easy to find answers to the hardest questions when Aarif was around.

He looked at the passenger seat where she had forgotten her new maroon pair of knit mittens. Just half an hour ago. Thirty minutes of glorious stupidity. _Well done, Mariano_, he thought to himself resentfully. _What were you thinking, again? Didn't think they'd reply, to begin with_, he thought bitterly, _had almost forgotten about the application_. Almost, but he should have told her. Damn, weren't he so careful not to break that fragile trust that had settled between them, he would have.

He took one of the mittens in his hand. '_And it's not only my trust in you that you shattered, it's my trust in my own judgement__ that broke off then,' _her words echoed in his head_._Was the damage he had left behind so bad, years ago, was he doing the same now? Backing off, thinking she's better off this way? He never believed he was good enough for her but, for some reason, she did. For two fucking years she told him so, one way or another, and it would be downright stupid not to listen. _'__I thought this time it was different, but it never is, is it?__'_ His face cringed. History repeats itself…

'_Destiny is a saddled donkey, he goes wherever you lead him'_. Aarif's parting words clang in Jess' head.

'Of course it does,' he murmured and got out of the car.

* * *

><p><em>All those words came undone and now I'm not the only one<br>Facing the ghosts that decide if the fire inside still burns  
>* * * <em>

'Hey, sunshine!' Lorelai's cheerful voice greeted from the other end of the line. As she heard her mother's voice, Rory's forehead wrinkled, trying to gain control over her tear ducts.

'Rory?... What is it, dear? Grasshopper, talk to me, or I'm coming straight to you, riding on the back of Paul Anka!' Lorelai's voice came out worried this time.

Rory was blinking fast, brushing her cheeks fiercely with the sleeve of her cardigan, sniffing occasionally.

'Are you crying, hon? Is it work? Did they run out of coffee?' Lorelai tried. 'It's Jess then, isn't it? I'm gonna come and strangle him, I so knew this was coming. Whenever he reappears, we come back to the crying part. No one deserves such severe dehydration, sweetheart, even your hoodlum.'

'Not mine anymore,' Rory sniffed in between sobs.

'Sorry, dear?'

'He's not my hoodlum anymore. 'Ts over.'

Lorelai's heart cringed and she gave out a sigh of relief. It was about him, after all. Rory wasn't hurt, the apartment wasn't falling apart… but her daughter was.

'Jess?' Luke mouthed from behind the counter where he was wiping the plot. He put his hands up in defense as Lorelai made a meaningful gesture before her throat.

'What happened, sweets? Look, first I want you to drink a glass of water… no, wait, make them two, I don't want you dehydrated, get some ice cream, get a cushion in your lap and have a seat on that ugly dark-orange sofa you insisted on having in the dining room. Now tell Mommy Precious the whole story, will you?'

* * *

><p><em>All I have, all I need, he's the air I would kill to breathe<br>Holds my love in his hands, still I'm searching for something_

'He took the job without telling you?' Lorelai ensured as Rory had finished her story.

'I… I don't know. He said he didn't think they'd ever call.'

'Oh. Okay. Go on,' Lorelai encouraged.

'That's it.'

'That's it? Sorry, didn't mean to underrate, just… nothing.'

'Just what?'

'Nothing, grasshopper,' Lorelai ensured her in her most innocent voice.

'Mum, are you on his side here?' Rory burst out. 'For God's sake, mom, you've always been the chairwoman of the Anti-Jess club… _and_ its Speaker! And you choose _now_ to turn on me? I can't believe it, after everything I've been through, that my own mother would be the one to stand up for the man who…'

'Hon…'

'Two years, mom! For _two years_ and I wrote to him every week, yet, whenever he's scared, he feels free to run away. _Just_ like that! I can't wait another two years, mom, I can't! And the worst part is that it was working. You know what they say – that happiness is overrated? It wasn't, mom, with him it wasn't.'

'Sweetheart…'

'I hate that I can't hate him properly!' Rory continued her rant. 'Even now, as I'm looking at his chipped Che Guevara mug, I think of him, and I don't hate him. Heck, I already miss him! God, I want to strangle him, so that I won't have to miss him, mom, does that make any sense?'

'Makes perfect sense to me, my dear prodigy, _that's_ my girl!' Lorelai encouraged cheerfully from the other end of the line.

There was a noise that came from the front door, strongly resembling a knock, followed closely by a familiar voice.

'Oh my god!' Rory whispred.

'What is it, dear?'

'He's here.'

'Ror…' Rory heard Jess' voice again, coming from behind the front door. 'Come on, Rory, I need to talk to you!'

It was ridiculous, they both had keys for the damn door, he could've well just entered the house. She started for the door but stopped as she faced it at two feet's length. A rhyme she had read somewhere came up to her mind.

_I tell you this, and I tell you plain:  
>What you have done, you will do again;<br>You will bite your tongue, careful or not,  
>Upon the already-bitten spot.<em>

Rory blinked a couple of times and then sat down, leaning her back on the corridor wall, the mobile resting in her hands.

'Rory, talk to me!' Lorelai's voice came from the phone.

'Okay, don't answer me, then, just listen.' Jess' voice came in through the door. By the sound that came from behind the door, Rory could tell he sat down on the threshold and leaned back against the door. 'I don't think the real reason why you're mad at me is the job.'

'_Really? You're right, the real reason why I'm mad is_ _because I'm having a bad hair day, I was just taking it out on you,' _Rory thought fervently.

'I think you never really believed me… I mean, you never really believed that I would stay this time.'

'_Words, Jess. It's only words.'_

'I know you think actions only speak here, but look back at these months together, don't they mean anything, Ror? I know you don't trust me now, but I think… I think I can make you trust me. But for that I'll need a chance here, Rory.'

'_How many?'_

'I don't wanna apologize about old mistakes anymore,' he continued, 'I _am_ sorry, but sorry doesn't fix anything, does it? All I'm asking for is a chance. You don't have to say anything now, just please… think about it, okay? Just think about it.'

'_Okay.'_

'To make it clear, the application was made eight months ago, before I had even landed back in the States, that's easy enough to check. And, just for the record, I'm not going anywhere. I'm here, Rory. I always wanted to be, but didn't have the balls to.'

'_And you do, now?'_

'I do now.'

* * *

><p><em>Open up next to you and my secrets become your truth<br>And the distance between that was sheltering me comes in full view_

Jess stood like this for a while, leaning back against the front door. He hoped she would answer back, say something, **anything**, yell at him – oh, how he wished he would hear her yelling again, but all he could hear was the traffic outside and… was that her breathing?

'_No, of course not. Very melodramatic, Mariano. Now, get your ass out of here, before you have said anything more stupid.'_

'I will go now,' Jess sighed, 'leave you think… or not think, it's your choice, really. But I'll be back.' '_I always am, Ror. Enough, man, move your ass from here already.'_

Jess stood up and hurried down the stairs.

* * *

><p><em>Hang my head, break my heart built from all I have torn apart<br>And my burden to bear is a love I can't carry anymore  
><em>

Rory heard him stand up and take the stairs and fought the urge to follow.

* * *

><p>Lorelai stood in the middle of the Diner and blinked. Her hand searched for a chair and she sat down.<p>

'Rory? Honey, are you still there?' Lorelai's voice came out worried.

'Later,' was the only word that came from the other end of the line before Rory hung up.

'Lorelai, are you okay?' Luke approached her and bent so that he could check her face.

Lorelai nodded, her mouth still slightly open.

'How's Rory? Did Jess do something?'

'He did.' Lorelai nodded. 'And I think she's making a mistake,' she added quietly, more to herself than to him.

* * *

><p><em>October 8, 2010,<em>

_ Azad Kashmir_

'_Even when the savior squads gave up searching, I hadn't really stopped hoping. It was as if she had gone away for a while but she was gonna call any time soon. She couldn't be gone; I heard her voice from the passenger's seat when I drove around Kashmir, searching through the remains and in the intensive care units, calling the hospitals; I saw her in every young woman in the distance, called her name and my heart dropped every time the woman turned around and I saw it wasn't Leena. But it wasn't her **this time**. Maybe **next** time I called her... When I walked in our home back in Islamabad and every little noise sounded like her walking through the door, the realization started to feel more real. I went out of our apartment that day and I knew I could never walk through that door again without her with me.'_

'_How did you get through this?' Jess asked quietly while brushing some soil off the white marble with his palm._

'_I didn't.' Aarif replied simply and laid the flowers over marble, close to the place where **Leena Aarif Akhtar** was written in Latin and then in Urdu. 'I never really stopped wishing I'd been there with her when it happened, go where she's now. But at some point I accepted that I would have to finish my time. You know, I did think of putting an end, but I sat there with the gun in my hands and I realized something. Leena didn't have a choice. I did. I could choose _anything_ right now and it was stupid and disrespectful to forget it.'_

* * *

><p>Jess took his shoes off and threw his jacket over the unmade bed as he walked into the bedroom. He clenched a fist slowly as he saw the sheer silky nightgown that lay splayed over the right pillow. He stared at it numbly for a while and then shook his head, took his clothes off and walked over to the bathroom to take a shower.<p>

Later as he came out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, he opened the big wooden wardrobe Rory was so in love with and a distinct vanilla and orange odor filled his lungs. He stepped back and for a while he was torn between the desire to dress up as fast as possible and go spend the night in a cheap motel room and the wish to breathe this scent in to the point of hyperventilation.

This night Jess slept in the wardrobe.

* * *

><p><strong>Lyrics used in the chapter are from 'Breathe Again', performed by Sara Bareilles<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>I hope you enjoyed, reviews would be better than chocolate!:)<br>**


	15. Let It Snow

**AN: I own nothing but my imagination and what it comes up with. I don't own the characters, I don't make any profit of them. Aarif is all mine, though:P:)**

***To everyone who felt like punching Rory for being so hard on Jess in the last chapter, please don't hate her too much, guys, she was kinda freaked out that she was gonna lose him /AGAIN/ and she truly believed he was leaving /again/. AND, women sort of do want to get a proof, don't they? So, hope you enjoy this chapter where I'll try to tell you what I think goes through their minds while apart and how they react to it... Enjoy, guys, I'm delirious with joy whenever I get some feedback, means so much to me that you keep up with the story:):):)*  
><strong>

*_For_ e_veryone who may wonder, this chapter consists mainly of memories of Rory and Jess of their times together or not together, so a little less dialogue in here with most of the action going on in their heads with Lorelai popping up now and then:D... _*You've been warned:P:) Hope you enjoy, as always!**  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>'What saves a man is to take a step. Then another step. It is always the same step, but you have to take it.'<strong>

** Antoine de Saint-Exupéry  
><strong>

* * *

><p><em>'I'm not moving until you tell me where we're going.' Jess repeated and stopped walking, causing Rory to stumble back a little. She turned back and her eyes squinted in challenge.<br>_

_'Oh, come on, spoilsport,' she pulled his hand forward. 'I'm taking you out on a date,' she smiled sweetly and Jess fought the desire to pounce, 'why not leave yourself in my skillful hands for once?' she added with a wink.  
><em>

_A smirk hovered Jess' lips and he started walking again. Rory beamed contentedly and squeezed his hand tighter between their laced fingers.  
><em>

_ It was a lazy Saturday afternoon and they were walking through a small park to god-knew-where-Rory-was-taking-him. Autumn leaves in all shades of orange, yellow, brown and green were scattered all over the ground under their feet, occasionally swept by a gust of wind. Jess bent down and picked a pine cone, then handed it to Rory ceremonially._

_'If we're on a date, I guess that's kinda needed,' he said matter-of-factly and stared forward again._

_'You need cones,' Rory smiled nostalgically as she inspected the cone in her hand before putting it in her handbag carefully. Jess shrugged and fought a smile as he remembered the night Rory was referring to. Yeah, it's always better with a cone, he thought to himself. But it had nothing to do with cones, if he had to be completely honest. Everything was better with Rory in the picture.  
><em>

_They continued walking in silence for a while. Rory led the way out of the park and then a few streets away. When they reached the entrance to a small movie theater, she stopped and turned to face him._

_'That would be our stop,' she smiled and bit her lip a little shyly._

_'You're taking me to the movies, you expecting to hook up?' Jess asked with exaggerated surprise. 'You trying to seduce me, Gilmore?' he squinted.  
><em>

_Rory faked hard thinking and then shrugged.  
><em>

_'I don't know. Are you seducable?' she asked.  
><em>

_Jess looked around and then leaned over to her ear.  
><em>

_'You have no idea,' he whispered and a smirk played on his lips as he saw her blush fiercely.  
><em>

_ They walked in and Rory showed their tickets to the young girl at the entrance._

_'What are we watching?' Jess asked as they took their seats in the semi-dark hall._

_'**"The Help"**,' Rory replied. 'It's about a book,' she continued as she saw his questioning look and Jess uttered an 'Oh'. 'And how it changes things,' Rory added carefully.  
><em>

_'Huh,' Jess muttered. The lights were off and a trailer of a future movie premiere started.  
><em>

_'I know it's been hard on you lately,' Rory whispered while Natalie Portman and Lisa Kudrow were exchanging freezing looks on the screen. 'And publishers may suck at times. But it will get better, I promise,' she squeezed his hand and kissed his fingers._

_'It's not...'_

_'Shhh,' Rory shushed him. 'It's starting.'  
><em>

* * *

><p><em>'I want to read it.' Rory said at last, letting a breath out.<em>

_ _They had been walking in silence for a while after the movie, each of them lost in their own thoughts.__

_ 'Your book,' she elaborated. 'I wanna read it.'  
><em>

_'Rory...' Jess started uneasily, but she didn't let him finish.  
><em>

_'I know,' she cut in. 'I'm not saying I want it today. I mean, I _do_ want it, but I don't wanna push you, given you edit something more every now and then and you probably won't ever give it to me willingly, at least not until some smart and intuitive publisher decides to become rich and famous on your back and I finally get to line up in a queue and buy it from a fancy bookstore, and then leave a special review, consisting mainly of complaints of how you made me wait for so long, being perfectly insensitive to my miserable agony.' _

_Jess rolled his eyes at her babble, but Rory continued, getting serious this time._

_'When you're ready, okay?' she said and pressed her lips together while observing his face. He never thought he was good enough. Whenever someone told him he was gonna make it, Jess got all defensive and sarcastic and, _now _she knew that, deep inside himself, he was simply shy._

_Rory reached out and cupped his face in her hands tenderly._

_ 'If only you could see yourself from where I stand,' she whispered. Jess seemed to be taken aback for a second, the way he always was when something nice about him _was said _. Rory stepped up on her toes and felt his breath against her lips._

_ As their lips melted in a slow tantalizing kiss, a gust of wind took some leaves up and swirled them around, bringing her closer to him, a distinct orange and vanilla scent filling his whole being with her presence.  
><em>

* * *

><p><strong><em>In the quiet of the shadow<em>**  
><strong><em> In the corner of a room...<em>**

Jess opened his eyes and took a breath.

**_... Darkness moves upon you_**  
><strong><em> Like a cloud across the moon.<em>**

Orange and vanilla registered on his receptors, but soon enough he realized he wasn't in the park. Hell, it was really dark in here. He shifted, fumbling around in the dark. Walls, clothes... Okay, so he wasn't in his bed, either.

**_You're a-wearing all the silence_**  
><strong><em> Of a constant that will turn<em>**

'Shit,' he scoffed as his head hit the wardrobe backboard and the reminiscence of the last twenty-four hours hit harder than the wood.

**_Like the windmill left deserted_**  
><strong><em> Or the sun forever burn<em>**

Somehow he managed to get out without handicapping himself and as he did so, he realized it was still an early morning.

_**So don't forget to breathe**_  
><em><strong>Don't forget to breathe<strong>_

He got into the bathroom sleepily and turned the tub on, hoping the cold water would somehow wipe away the vivid memory of the visions in his sleep.

As he came out of the bathroom and threw a T-shirt on, he headed towards the window and opened it with the intention to smoke. It was snowing outside, the flakes falling slowly and gently towards the white roofs. It was impossibly quiet, so quiet Jess thought snow had developed some supernatural noise-absorbing abilities. And the streets were perfectly empty, empty and still. Not even a homeless cat jumping out of a trash bag. There was a weird flair of leisure in the way these pieces of ice would fly, light and undisturbed by the slightest gust of wind.

_**Your whole life is here**_  
><em><strong>No eleventh hour reprieve<strong>_  
><em><strong>So don't forget to breathe<strong>_

When Jess realized he was still standing and staring out of the window, dawn was already breaking and he heard a taxi blowing its horn. He realized he was still holding an unlit cigarette between his frozen fingers and shifted uneasily, a shiver running down his spine. Then, suddenly, he knew what he had to do. He put the cigarette behind his ear, put on a sweater, took his jacket and keys and looked around for his shoes. He was pretty sure his landlord had mentioned something about a shovel in the basement when Jess first moved in...

* * *

><p><em><span>Reggie Lampert:<span> Well, wasn't it Shakespeare that said, "When strangers do meet in far off lands, they should e'er long see each other again"?_

_Peter Joshua: Shakespeare never said that!_

_Reggie Lampert: How do you know?_

_Peter Joshua: It's terrible. You just made it up._

_'You miss him?' Rory looked away from the screen, lifting her head from Jess' chest to meet his eyes. He frowned a little, still looking at the screen where Audrey Hepburn and Cary Grant exchanged sharp lines. 'Aarif,' she elaborated, 'you miss him, don't you?'  
><em>

_ After a short pause, Jess' eyebrows lifted sceptically and he shrugged a shoulder.  
><em>

_'I don't know,' he began nonchalantly, 'do I?' he added with a glint of challenge in his eyes.  
><em>

_Rory studied his face.  
><em>

_'Yes,' she nodded, 'you do.'  
><em>

_Jess shook his head in a 'if you say so' manner and focused back on the film where Audrey was opening numerous wardrobes in her empty flat just before running into a Paris police inspector. Rory kept studying his face, though. She found it much more interesting than the movie right now.  
><em>

_'You listen to Chopin when you write and think I'm gonna be late from work. And you never cared for classical music before,' she smiled gently, indicating she wasn't mocking him._

_'I can't care less for classical music,' Jess scoffed and sighed as he felt she was still looking at him with this strange voila smile. Why should he have dropped in a conversation that Aarif was obsessed with classical music, to the point where the he would be telling Jess all about composers' biographies, quote them and listen to their waltzes and adagios and preludes and whatsoever etudes for hours...  
><em>

"Simplicity is the final achievement. After one has played a vast quantity of notes and more notes, it is simplicity that emerges as the crowning reward of art,"___ Aarif had quoted one evening when Jess complained about the loud piano classic he had turned on. '___Chopin, Nocturno No.20 in C-sharp minor,___' Aarif had added, not bothering to even open his eyes as he kept sitting in the armchair with his hands crossed in his lap, legs stretched over the coffee table, his eyes closed in delight.___

_'Whatever,' Jess shook his head dismissively with a sore face.  
><em>

_Rory smiled wider and lifted to perk a little kiss by the corner of his mouth.  
><em>

_'Aarif is a remarkable man. He left a trace, and that's just as natural as you missing him,' she concluded cheerfully. 'You know, I kinda miss him, too,' she added seriously and turned back to focus on the screen._

_Later on, as Cary kissed Audrey for the last time in the movie, Rory was fast asleep, using Jess as a pillow. He turned _ the DVD_ off and shifted carefully, so that he didn't startle her while scooping her up and carrying her to bed.  
><em>

_He put her down on the bed and lay beside her shortly after. As she shifted to rest her head on his shoulder and he put his arms around her, he kissed the top of her head goodnight and whispered a quiet 'Love you.' It was the slightest of whisper and it surprised him he had voiced it at all. He had _thought_ it, so many times, but never dared say it, maybe because he regarded it not very manly to talk about such stuff, because he didn't want the words to lose meaning if repeated too often, and maybe because he would feel so embarrassed if he did, that he would feel a sudden urge to hide away. Tonight it somehow slipped off his lips, thankfully Rory was asleep. _

_ _'Love you, too,' _Rory_ muttered in her sleep_ and hugged him tighter.  
><em>

_Jess' breath caught in his throat for a few seconds before he was able to let it out, realizing saying this and hearing the reply wasn't as scary as he had feared. In fact, it was... it was _nice_.  
><em>

_It wasn't a passionate or excited or melodramatic I love you, it was in fact as simple as that, a half-asleep figure beside him and a little 'love you, too'. No fanfares, just... was that... was it... _Happiness_?  
><em>

_Hell, yeah. And it felt damn good.  
><em>

"Simplicity is the final achievement. After one has played a vast quantity of notes and more notes, it is simplicity that emerges as the crowning reward of art."__ Chopin was right.__

* * *

><p>Rory shifted uneasily in her sleep.<p>

_"... great one minute and then the next - you know, as far as I know, I could have said yes, packed my bag, and by the time I got to the car, he would have changed his mind."_

__"... I'm ready for this. You can count on me now. I know you couldn't count on me before, but you can now..."__

___"... love isn't enough. It's just the beginning..."___

_"... you never really believed me… I mean, you never really believed that I would stay this time..."_

Rory opened her eyes and they burnt. Her head felt like it had been continually thumped, it ached terribly and Rory was pretty sure it was going to explode any minute now.

There was this numb, yet distinct feeling of loss inside her, clutching at her throat, tightening her chest. Not sadness, though. Not yet. Sadness would come later. And now, there was only this numb, unnamed recognition of the empty half of the bed.

She sat up in the bed and ran a hand through her hair. It was still early, given there was still too little street noise, even for a Saturday morning in New York.

Going around the kitchen, looking for coffee, putting a comfortable hoodie on, running her finger over her classic movies disc collection and pulling an _Audrey Hepburn's Best_ out. Everything she did was like being outside herself, watching in slow motion.

She sat down on the couch, holding her mug in one hand and the CD in the other, staring at its cover hypnotized.

Rory's mobile beeped from the kitchen table and tore her from her trance. She left the disc aside stiffly and clutched at her coffee mug harder as she threw a quick glance at the phone which was still innocently lying on the kitchen table. To her, this otherwise harmless device, felt like a devil machinery, one that was going to materialize into an evil comic character and could use some supernatural mutant powers to turn her into a vegetable.

Rory approached the mobile carefully and sighed with a mixture of relief and disappointment as she saw 'mom' flashing from the screen.

'Hey there, honeybee, I'm at the door!' Lorelai chirped.

'What?' Rory asked disbelievingly but headed for the front door, just in case.

'Yeah, sweets, come open it for me, will you?' Lorelai moaned. 'I'm all cold and shivering and decaffeinated...' as Rory opened the door, Lorelai stopped talking and closed her mobile, so that she could pull her daughter into a tight hug. 'My sweet, _sweet_ daughter,' she sighed contentedly as Rory hugged back.

'Here,' Lorelai said while passing her daughter by, carrying a bunch of big shopping bags, two paper packages, as well as a big thermos flask.

Open-mouthed, Rory tucked a lock of hair behind her ear as she stood, still rooted at the front door, and watched her mother spread tons of food over the kitchen plot. There were all kinds of junk, plus ice-cream, plus a package of freshly milled coffee, and Rory could swear she saw _Luke's_ written over one of the packages.

'Mom, what are you doing here?' Rory asked, still surprised, but also grateful at the same time.

Lorelai took her coat and scarf off and threw them over the armchair.

'Hmm,' Lorelai started while pouring water into the coffeemaker, 'I felt like driving, plus it's snowing like mad, there are those snow removal machines, with the semi-bald guys driving them. Not that I could really _see_ if they were bald, I mean, they all wear those docker caps they seem to be born with, so you can't really see what's under, but it's a constant that these guys watch Ronco's infomercial, you remember it, honey? _GLH means great looking hair,'_ Lorelai recited, mimicking spraying her hair with paint foam. 'I hardly got to your street, you know?' she continued, putting two mugs under the coffee maker. 'Good thing someone had shoveled the snow to your block, so that we'll be able to survive out of your place and go make a snowman, and we always make a snowman, right?'

'We do that, yeah,' Rory smiled faintly and bit her lower lip. 'Thanks, mom.'

'Any time, grasshopper,' Lorelai smiled back before taking the mugs in her hands. 'I was missing you, anyway,' she added with a wink and approached Rory on the couch with two steaming mugs of hot coffee.

'I feel like Batman, you feel like Batman?' she asked with exaggerated enthusiasm as she followed Rory's look towards the chipped Che Guevara mug she had poured one of the coffees in. 'Luckily, I've brought _these_ with me' Lorelai added giddily and took a couple of discs out of her purse, handling them to Rory and then moving Jess' mug in front of herself.

'You brought your Batman collection,' Rory exclaimed in delight, smiling widely for the first time today, 'how sweet!'

'That's right, offspring, your mommy loves both you and Bruce Wayne,' Lorelai put a hand round her daughter's shoulders and pulled her into a hug.

Lorelai felt relieved as she saw her daughter smile like herself again, but didn't miss the fact that Rory was wearing a white hoodie, one that was way too big to be her own and kind of smelled like tobacco and cologne.

* * *

><p>A bowl of ice-cream and Tim Burton's Batman later Rory left her spoon on the table and turned to face her mother.<p>

'Boy, do I feel like Hensel and Gretel,' Lorelai sighed and ran a palm over her stomach. 'I'm listening, sad face,' she added as she looked at Rory.

'Mom, remember what you told me when I and Logan split up?' Rory asked quietly.

'I don't know, sweetie,' Lorelai replied with an innocent smile. 'I say a lot of things, but I'm sure this one was exactly the kind of a source of wisdom thing a mom says to her young prodigy, right?'

Rory nodded slowly, trying to remember the exact words.

'Someday you'll meet someone, and you'll just know it's right. You won't want to hesitate. You'll just know,' Rory recited and paused.

Lorelai's face got serious, her features expressing patience and care.

'I knew, mom. For the first time, I knew,' Rory spread her arms helplessly and a muscle on her chin winced as her eyes seized the chipped Che Guevara in Lorelai's hand. 'Or at least I thought so,' she added wearily, shaking her head once, her shoulders dropping. 'How do you trust someone with yourself when you can't even trust yourself around them?' Rory asked defeated, sinking back in the couch. 'I don't know what's right anymore, mom.'

'Oh, honey, I'm so sorry you feel this way.' Lorelai sighed, leaving the mug down behind the couch armrest. 'You'll need some time to figure things out, you know? It will all come into place, my little jedi, I promise,' she added and put her hands round her daughter's shoulders, starting to rub them reassuringly.

'It won't.' Rory shook her head. 'I knew something like that would happen, and yet, I couldn't prevent it. I couldn't do it back then, eight years ago, and I couldn't this time, either. I'm so stuck in this vicious circle and it just keeps coming back to me, over and over again, and I can't stop asking myself what I did wrong.'

'You did nothing wrong, babe,' Lorelai assured, gently smoothing Rory's hair with her palm.

'Then why is he leaving again, why did he apply for a job thousands of miles away without even mentioning it to me and why do I feel like I'm slipping down the slope and can't stop it and why can't I even vent appropriately? I want to vent. It helps me feel better. But I can't. I can't vent because thus I think more of him and instead of images of how I cold-bloodedly tear him into tiny little pieces, all I can think about are things about him that I miss.' Rory's eyes began to tingle but she shook her head. 'Like his pancakes on Saturday morning, or the sound of his typing in the afternoon, sometimes the whole night, or his wardrobe... I miss his wardrobe, it's the biggest wardrobe you've seen and...' Rory paused to blow her nose into a hankie, 'it's... it's a very nice wardrobe,' Rory said with a sniff. 'And it's all his fault, he even took away from me the pleasure of venting,' she shook her head vigorously.

Lorelai thought her next words over a couple of times before answering. She was torn between the need to reassure her upset daughter and the need to be painfully honest with her. But when a mother thought her kid was making a mistake, she had to say it, no matter how hard it might be for Rory to hear it.

'Sweets,' Lorelai started in her most patient voice, 'I know you two have hell of a history together and I'd be the first person to call Jess to account for every tiny step in the wrong direction, believe me, I would.' Rory had wiped away a tear and was listening to her mom intently. 'But' Lorelai continued, 'you haven't even talked to him afterwards, hon. I know that, right now, it seems pretty obvious he was up to something, but...' she paused to check up on Rory and it surprised her a little as she saw the timid but perceptible hint of hope in her daughter's blue eyes.

_Okay, little punk, I owed you one for getting her back to Yale, now we're quits._

Lorelai took a breath and continued.

'I heard what he said yesterday, when he came at your front door. No, forget what he said, words don't really count here. It's what he did. He moved towns, found a job that is not illegal, at least as far as we know by now, he talked to his sister, and I never thought Jess could compromise, but, what do I know...' Lorelai accompanied the last words with a '_who knows, maybe squirrels can fly_' gesture in the air. 'And, most importantly, cricket, he made you happy.' Rory winced at her mother's last words, but Lorelai just nodded once before adding, 'Hon, I've never seen you happier and, as horrible as it sounds, there's the tiniest possibility that it might have something to do with Mr Traveling Pants. You can't be sure he was really leaving. Right now, all I wanna do is bang him on the head with your grandpa's shovel, but, sweets, you really need to have that conversation with Jess. You understand why I'm telling you that, right?'

'If he wasn't leaving, why do I feel so betrayed?' Rory's voice trembled and Lorelai gave her a slow nod.

'Or, maybe, he didn't betray you, grasshopper. You'll yet have to find this out.'

* * *

><p>'So, are we making Gaga or Bieber?' Lorelai asked enthusiastically as they started down the stairs of Rory's block. 'Though I think there's enough snow out there to make the whole Walk of Fame. I'm thinking now, what about Chuck Norris?'<p>

'Oh please,' Rory's eyes rolled.

'Check this one, Chuck Norris doesn't do push ups, he pushes the world down,'Lorelai recited with a wink. 'If you have five dollars and Chuck Norris has five dollars, Chuck Norris has more money than you,' she tried again, but Rory's expression didn't bear more emotion than the one of a cat before a grapefruit. 'What about this one,' Lorelai gave it another try, 'Outer space exists because it's afraid to be on the same planet with Chuck Norris,' she gave Rory a meaningful nudge. 'Your turn.'

Rory shook her head but a smile hovered her lips.

'In a fight between Batman and Darth Vader, the winner would be Chuck Norris,' Rory said as she stepped out in the snow and skipped into place to get warm.

'Good one,' Lorelai grinned and followed her outside. 'My turn now,' she started, but couldn't finish as an elderly lady holding a shopping bag in her hand approached them and waved to Rory.

'Hello, Mrs Stevens,' Rory greeted.

'Hey there, dear, good to see you,' Mrs Stevens smiled and started to look for something in the shopping bag, 'Oh, here it is,' she said, taking a pack of cookies out and handing them to Rory, 'Thank your boy from me, dear, tell him all of the neighbors are very grateful. You know how lazy these boys who live on the third floor are, I tell them to find a shovel and they start finding excuses, and Mr Stevens' knees haven't really been very well lately, so this is for your boy, sweetheart' the lady tapped Rory's arm appreciatively and passed her by, watching her steps in the snow.

Rory stood rooted to the spot before moving her eyes from the cookie pack in her hands to the snow piles on both of her sides.

_**And the answer that you're seeking**_  
><em><strong> For the question that you found<strong>_  
><em><strong> Drives you further to confusion<strong>_  
><em><strong> As you lose your sense of ground<strong>_

_** So don't forget to breathe**_  
><em><strong> Don't forget to breathe<strong>_  
><em><strong> Your whole life is here<strong>_  
><em><strong> No eleventh hour reprieve<strong>_  
><em><strong> So don't forget to breathe<strong>_

* * *

><p><strong>Song lyrics used in the chapter - 'Breathe' by Alexi Murdoch<strong>

**Movie quoted in the chapter - 'Charade' (1963)  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>I hope you enjoyed and don't hate me too much for keeping them apart for a whole chapter. I want them together, too, but somehow felt while writing this chapter that the characters needed to get there on their own, so here's what came out under my keyboard:)<strong>

**I'd be truly grateful if you took the time to leave a review so that I know what you think:)  
><strong>

**Thanks for reading;):):)  
><strong>


	16. Enough to Let You Go

**AN: I don't own anything, I don't make a profit out of the characters, just playing with them. Aarif's all mine, though:P**

* * *

><p><strong>'And if it's true love, then you start to see yourself through their eyes. And it brings out the best in you. It's almost as if you're falling in love with yourself.'<br>"Playing by Heart", 1998**

* * *

><p><em><strong>Monday...<strong>_

Rory woke up early this morning and first thing she did, she walked over to the kitchen window to see if there was anyone who was, by any chance, accidentally shoveling snow outside. Lorelai had left for Stars Hollow last night and the apartment was awkwardly quiet without her constant babbling.

As she saw Jess piling the snow up on both sides of the road, something in Rory's chest cringed involuntarily. A part of her had desperately hoped it would be snowing today , the way it had been snowing the whole day yesterday and the day before. And, right now, that part was jumping around triumphantly, whistling and dancing, because he was there again like she had hoped he would be and he was shoveling snow just a couple of meters away, not disappearing into thin air like she had feared...

However, another part of her was just as childishly scared that Jess would occasionally look up to her window and see how hungrily her eyes took him in. And she wasn't ready to face him, not yet.

Rory contemplated over making herself some coffee before work but, on the other hand, maybe she could just keep staying by the window for as long as he kept bending down and then ascending, throwing snow to the side. There was some strange sense of comfort she got from his presence - unobtrusive but yet unmistakable.

As she observed Jess wordlessly, something started to shape up in her mind. It was the reason why she had been hiding for days in the first place. And it wasn't because of the job application. Rory stepped back from the window and sat down on the chair beside the kitchen table. She blinked a couple of times, still consumed by the new realization, and as her eyes grasped the sight of a pen and a bunch of paper sheets, she took them hastily and started writing.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Monday, some time later...<strong>  
><em>

'Yeah, thanks, man,' Jess sighed and rotated the cigarette pack against the desk surface. 'I'm not really shocked she said no... not that I _ever_ doubted your persuasion skills, Matt, but, you know, at least you tried. Hope it wasn't that bad... Oh... I guess Dragon woman stands for something, hm,' he cleared his throat uncomfortably and started tapping the pack against the desk, 'No, I believe you did your best. What? Whatever, I don't wanna...' he shook his head, 'I really don't want the details about your sacrifice date with Celia, man. What do you mean why? I just don't... Jeez, Matt, I'm hanging up now.'

Jess put his mobile down on the desk and hung his head back. His forehead felt like it was going to detach from the rest of his skull any second now. His neck hurt, his throat felt like he had cotton in his mouth and another publisher had said no.

As his mobile rang again, his eyes rolled and he picked up with a sigh.

'Look, man, spare me the sexual predator stuff, will you?'

'Jess Mariano?' an elderly woman's voice came from the other end of the line. It sounded rather firm, with a stern vibe when she pronounced the consonants. Just like...

'Huh,' Jess swallowed dryly, his voice coming out rather high, 'How are you, Miss Whitman?'

* * *

><p><em>Dear Jess,<em>

_Me writing this letter proves me to be the coward I thought you were, so many times. Right now, I don't think I'm ready to face you, not now, not yet, and say all this to you in person. I know it most probably doesn't make good sense, what I'm writing to you here, but it's still messy in my head, too. I hope it comes out right, though, and I hope you get it that I'm trying to find some answers myself, and being around you would only make things harder right now._

_ Once you told me that you knew we were supposed to be together, ever since the first time you saw me. Yet, you ran away, so many times, and I couldn't wrap my mind around a single possible reason for this. How could you know we were supposed to be together and pull away so fiercely at the same time? It didn't make any sense back then, but now... I think I know what this feels like, now._

_ I think part of me felt betrayed. I thought it was you who betrayed me, but then again, I guess it was me. I think it started earlier. Before the fight, before the phone call from the publishing company, before I got an excuse to pull away. It was a matter of time for this to happen, and this job application only sped things up.  
><em>

_Remember when I told you that maybe this is it, maybe it's Jess? That night when it came to me for the first time was like a turning point, and I think it all revolves around it in some way. I always considered myself experienced in relationships. You know me, I'm the relationship type, I know about feelings and courses of interaction and stuff... Hah, I'd always thought I knew what was best for me in a relationship and I was always sure of my own place in it. And, I think you know it well enough that, with you, it's different. It always is. Different in a world-spinning, inspiring and uncontrollably overwhelming way. And dangerous. Yeah, I guess you know that, too. That night, for the first time, I felt incredibly dependent on you and this realization freaked me out. I always thought that 'it' would mean finding someone to trust myself with, someone who would be a constant in my life, so that I would feel, I don't know, _settled_?. And all the time I had thought that the hardest job would be done once I found that person. I guess I've been wrong, like every woman who kept her girlish image of what her life is gonna look like when she grows up into an adult. So, I guess, it's hard enough to find someone who's worth keeping, but it's harder to actually keep them around and it's even harder to keep your own integrity in the process._

_The other day, when we had this fight, you told me I always needed a proof, and you were perfectly right. I need a proof. I always do. Only I thought I needed proof from you. Now I come to think the proof I sought all that time had all to do with me and not with you. I think, right now, I have to be my own proof /and boy, did this come out like a Hannah Montana quote.../. Having you is addictive, always was, and your presence is a dangerous drug to depend on. I like the way you see me, it's like thus I can see my own reflection, in the best way I have seen it._

_ But I need to know I can still be, even if you're not there to remind me what I love about myself. Because you do. You constantly remind me what I like about myself, seeing my reflection through your eyes makes me live up to an image that I thought was hard to reach without you around. Losing you could mean not only losing what you feel for me, but great part of what I feel for myself, too. And it's a scary perspective to look at. And if I want us to really have a chance, I can't keep fearing I might lose you whenever the wind changes. And I can't keep fearing I might lose myself likewise... And I hope you get this right, I need some time to fully get it myself, and I hope it doesn't take too long until I do... And if I need some time by myself now, it's not because I don't wanna keep you. It's because I do.  
><em>

_Rory  
><em>

* * *

><p><em><strong>Tuesday...<strong>_

Jess read and reread the last lines of the letter over and over for what might be the millionth time since he had found it slid under his door this afternoon. Women needed love, not understanding, right? Would he ever be able to provide either? In a way that so much sounded like a love confession, he was told to keep away. He was starting to doubt his own intelligence whenever he tried to figure out how a woman's thought process actually worked. Maybe he would need a drink or two to make the process more manageable.

'You're already here, that's good,' a bristly female voice tore Jess from his musings and he folded the letter quickly, putting it in the inside pocket of his coat.

Shirley Whitman hung her shawl and trimmed fur hat on the hanger next to Jess' table and sat in front of Jess, putting a bunch of papers in front of him. She had asked for a meeting in this cafe near the Foreign Affairs Bookstore. Not that Miss Whitman was one to _ask_ people to do something. It would be fair to say she just informed them what was expected from them, so Jess didn't really have much of a choice but to be where she told him to. Plus, he didn't really have anything more consuming to do, if staring at Rory's letter staying alone in his apartment even counted as doing something.

Jess' eyebrows raised as he saw that what she had put on the table was his own manuscript, with numerous signs and remarks in the margins.

'We have hell of a lot to do, young man, are you going to just sit there and be useless the whole evening? Because I've had a long day and I could really use some rest at home,' Miss Whitan asserted.

Jess' pupils widened.

'You're publishing it,' he uttered more to himself than to her. Jess felt a sudden urge to pull that crazy control freak woman into a tight hug.

'Right after we change the title and rework the paragraphs I've highlighted for you,' Shirley Whitman added in a business tone, but couldn't hold back a lingering smile as she observed Jess' excitement. Somehow she suspected that it wasn't much of a regular emotion for this young man to be excited or enthusiastic and it amused her as she watched the shifts of his expression.

'Excuse me?' Jess' enthusiasm cooled immediately once he had processed her last words in his mind, excitement quickly replaced by discontent. 'You're not changing the title,' he concluded pointedly.

'I'm not. _You_ are.' Shirley Whitman educed.

'What?. Sure as hell, I'm not changing the title of my book,' Jess grunted indignantly.

'You surely are, boy, unless you want it to remain a manuscript for the rest of your life. You have to trust me here, there's no way you're getting people to notice it if you keep that title. Here, I've written these down for you, I want you to check these authors for our next meeting and now get busy, young man,' she said sternly, pushing the manuscript further in front of him. 'Time is ticking, any minute I may find myself another promising writer to publish,' the elderly lady added in a softer voice, indicating she actually considered Jess a promising writer to publish.

_Oh, jeez..._

* * *

><p><strong><em>Wednesday...<em>**

'It's funny what great deal we put into a door. What you fear is in your head, of course, not in the room behind this door...'

_Or something like that, _Jess thought as he lifted his hand up and then hung it back down again, staring at the door knob intently.

He had been trying to imagine what Aarif would tell him if he was here with him right now, watching Jess as he tried to decide between leaving the package he held in his left hand on the door mat or using his right hand to knock on the damn door, hoping he would find his voice to say something... that is, if Rory opened it, of course.

'Suppose she opens, what do I say to her?' Jess continued debating with imaginary Aarif. 'Hey there, Ror, I know you wanted to be alone, cause you were extremely precise about it in the letter you wrote to me but didn't even deliver personally so that you wouldn't have to actually face me, but I just got myself a crazy control freak old maid publisher and I wanted you to have this, my manuscript, that is, and I thought that, what the fuck, why not deliver it at you door, cause simply the thought of seeing you for a second makes me high and turns my guts inside out and...' Jess shook his free hand and sighed with frustration. His hands felt numb, his mind going blank. 'See?' he asked imaginary Aarif. 'Won't work.'

'Then leave it and go,' Imaginary Aarif suggested.

'What if I'm missing a chance to fix this, if she needs a reminder of what she saw in me in the first place? Fuck, I have no idea what I'm supposed to do here. If I don't give her the space she asked for, then I don't care enough for her. If I do give her space, then maybe I don't care enough for her, either.'

_And if I need some time by myself now, it's not because I don't wanna keep you. It's because I do. _

'What's this supposed to mean? Why should women be like this? Why should the world have a grudge on me, eh?'

Suddenly Jess felt stupid. And angry. And powerless.

His free hand had curled into a fist and the other one was gripping at the package fiercely.

'Monsters, Demons - we give them wings and we teach them to fly,' Imaginary Aarif noted.

'Keep it, man,' Jess scoffed his non-existing companion off just before reality stepped in in the form of an old woman's voice.

'Thank the Lord you're here, my boy, could you help me with these bags, please?' Mrs Stevens asked from the staircase behind him. 'The elevator's broken and I think I overestimated myself here,' she added with an apologetic smile.

Jess nodded and left the package before Rory's door without any further consideration and then took the bags from Mrs Stevens' hands.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Friday...<strong>_

She saw him sitting on a bench, a book left open beside him and sighed as relief washed over her. Rory knew he came here when he needed to think, clear his head.

She had tried his mobile, but it was off, so she had gone to his apartment but he wasn't there either, so she just started checking places, like the library, his neighborhood cafe, and this small park.

He was here, she had found him, she would talk to him and fix things... right?

Jess was staring ahead at a snowman a few feet away, unaware he was being watched. He looked tired and... had he lost a kilo or so?

_Don't be stupid, Gilmore, a week has hardly passed, he's just tired, maybe he stayed late last night, writing ... Boy, I've been such a huge jerk..._

Rory slowed her pace, suddenly feeling ashamed of her own stubbornness.

_I should've had this conversation with you earlier, should've at least had the decency to talk to you in person, not hide away the way I did. I'm really sorry I pushed you away, Jess._

'It didn't snow last night,' she said as she approached the bench and rooted herself a few feet away, not moving further to sit down beside him, as if waiting for a permission.

Jess' eyes flashed as he turned to face her. She didn't yet know if that was a good or a bad flash but she truly hoped she hadn't waited for too long to find out.

'You must be mad at me,' she said quietly, guilt starting to take over her as she looked at his still features. His jaw muscles twitched once before he shook his head once and sighed.

'I'm not... _mad_,' Jess said and looked away again. He stared back at the snowman where a sparrow was trying to peck his carrot nose off.

'I...' she bit her lip and sat down at the end of the bench, her hands fidgeting nervously in her lap.

_Okay, you came here to find him and talk to him, you better get started now._

Rory swallowed and focused on the hands in her lap.

'I hate when it's too hot, and I have never been on a camel in my whole life, never really had a thing for riding an animal, you know? Regardless my grandma's effort to make me ride a pony when I was sixteen... Plus, men with beards make me uncomfortable. I mean, the ones with really long beards, like these of orthodox priests, I find them truly spooky, okay? But I can at least _try_...' she licked a lip before she continued. 'I'm not quite sure if I like stews, either, you know, those they have flavored with fiery hot habanero and scotch bonnet chillies, but I don't really think there is such thing as food that a Gilmore wouldn't eat, so, I guess it could eventually work... if you're still willing to take me with you, that is,' she added timidly, seeing that Jess was looking at her dumbfound.

Her eyes started to feel hot and tingling as the seconds passed and Jess still kept silent, staring at her wordlessly.

'Fine, then,' she continued with childish stubbornness. 'I don't care if you still want to take me, okay? I'm coming after you, anyway, and I'm gonna plaster myself behind your back and follow you all the way to the airport, book a seat right next to yours, and then you'll have to drag me through the desert so that I don't drop dead out of severe dehydration attack and get run over by a camel... And I know that, no matter how mad at me you may be right now, deservedly, I must admit, I just know that you wouldn't let me die in such annihilating way, right?' she swallowed with difficulty, feeling a lump forming in her throat. 'And I'll kick your ass until I make you forgive me, because I'm really sorry I acted so selfishly, I never thought how hard it must have been for you to work two places while searching for a publisher who'd give your book a chance, and I read the manuscript you left for me, Jess, I held my breath word for word until the last page,' her voice came out a bit choked, she was feeling difficulty breathing, the lump in her throat growing, 'I loved every word of it and it's... it's...' she couldn't catch her breath, suffocated by a sob. She tried desperately to get a grip over herself, it was so not the moment for a meltdown, but she couldn't stop the sobs as they came, she had held them in for so long, and now they were all pouring out at once.

She couldn't see him anymore, salty drops flooding her eyes rapidly, but at some point she realized he was holding her close and her head was buried in his chest, her hands clutching at the sleeves of his coat.

'T's okay,' he whispered in her hair and her shoulders shook with another sob at his words. 'It's okay,' he repeated, soothing her hair and swaying her in his arms slowly.

As he kept swaying Rory gently in his arms, the havoc in Jess' head started to find some harbor and his thoughts started to one by one fall into place. Jeez, he had made her think he was leaving her the manuscript because he was going away and asking her to choose between leaving with him for Liberia or staying. _And_, a small voice in his head rang a bell, she had chosen to_ follow_. Jess felt a lump in his own throat but shook it away soon enough, now wasn't the time for more dramatic confessions of love and devotion. He would explain it all to her, but first he had to take her back to her apartment and make her a hot cup of coffee, maybe force her into eating some of those chocolate bars he knew she was secretly keeping on the last board of the shelf above the kitchen sink. And then, they could finish this conversation.

As her breathing normalized, Jess wiped Rory's cheeks with his thumb and started to stand up, pulling her up with himself.

'Come on,' he kissed the top of her head and started to walk slowly, his hand around her shoulders, holding her close. 'Let's go home.'

Rory nodded against his shoulder and closed her arms tighter around his waist.

'You're such a drama queen, you know that?' he smiled in her hair.

* * *

><p><strong>Mood song - 'Enough to let me go' by Switchfoot<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Review?:)<em><br>_**


	17. 500 Miles

**AN: I own nothing, the characters all belong to the show, and I make no profit out of this. Aarif's all mine, though:P:)**

* * *

><p><strong>'Woke up in bed with a gorgeous woman, who I'm going to have lunch and the rest of my life with.'<strong>

**Jason Barmer**

* * *

><p>'I'll call you a leishmaniasis later,' Paris' tensed up voice scoffed just before Rory heard the hangup.<p>

Rory Gilmore looked at the mobile in her hand and sighed. She felt lonely. Jess had been on a book signing tour for almost a month now and she missed him like hell. Lorelai and Luke were busy getting ready for National Pig Day /_'Snort Offs, Pig Outs, and online Pig Chats, grasshopper, would you really miss that? Who on Earth would? Really, you should get a day off and come, babe, Kirk is singing "Old MacDonald Had a Farm!''_/...

And Paris was studying for her Infectious and Parasitic diseases exam.

Rory sighed, drank from her coffee and got back to reading the book she had left ten minutes ago. Another Friday night spent just prime.

An hour later / and, apparently, a leishmaniasis later/, Paris called as promised.

'Did you know that sandflies transmit kala-azar?'

Rory suppressed a chuckle.

'Well, I do now.'

'Have you got any idea how many stages the plasmodium passes through in order to cause malaria?' Paris asked with a mixture of indignation and despair.

'No. How many?' Rory asked with a smile as she leaned back to rest in the armchair.

'Oh my God! I _forgot_! I'm so gonna fail this, I knew I had to start studying earlier. I don't have enough time to learn the differential diagnosis for the infectious rashes, let alone the differentials for a vague febrile state! I don't even have enough time to tattoo myself with the Protozoan Kingdom! I'm useless! I'm an amoeba, I'm a promastigote, no, wait, I don't deserve to be a promastigote, I don't even deserve to have a flagellum, I'm an _amastigote_ and I don't even have a flagellum!' Paris' increasingly panicked voice carried.

Rory rolled her eyes.

'Come on, Paris, you're not an amoeba, you need to relax.'

'There's no time to relax! I'm an amastigote with no time to relax!' Paris rambled.

'Paris, come on, you need to relax so that you can regain your focus, okay? Why don't you come at my place? It's Friday night, we can watch _**"Rhinestone"** _and eat junk, with Stallone and Dolly singing country duets, what do you say?' Rory bargained.

'Dolly! There are dozens of infections transmitted through sheep! I have to make a meat and milk infectious list and memorize it, and I have only a week until the exam, I'm totally running out of time, I gotta go!'

And there it was - another hangup. Rory threw an incredulous look at the mobile in her hand and then put it aside with a sigh, taking the popcorn bowl and the remote back in her lap and turning the DVD on. Another weekend spent with Rory, herself and her.

* * *

><p>'Hey,' Rory bit her lip and smiled. She was so eager to hear his voice, she couldn't wait until he called.<p>

During their time apart, they had fallen into an easy routine - he called her in the evening, after retiring to his hotel room. Sometimes that meant calling her really late, but she waited with as much patience as she could summon herself to. She was a Gilmore, after all.

Today, however, she couldn't bring herself to wait until the evening. It was a Sunday afternoon, it had been raining cats and dogs for the whole weekend and she had done more than enough work to make sure she was next employee of the month. Another weekend alone, she could surely get a free Broadcast Awards subscription entry...

And she couldn't keep herself from thinking how many great things they would find to do if only he was here with her right now, like ordering food and watching her 80's movie collection or playing Book Titles Scrabble or take turns to read aloud parts of a random book they bought from a used books street store on their way back home from the supermarket, his head in her lap, her fingers lazily ruffling his hair as she read... Rory shook her head. _Oh, come on, Gilmore, focus!_

'Jess?' Rory asked as no one answered. 'You there?'

'He'll call you later, Miss Gilmore. He's quite busy right now.' Shirley Whitman's voice came in through the phone and Rory's features shifted in disappointment. 'I hope it's nothing urgent,' the elderly lady added in what Rory knew to be her kindest tone.

'No, it's... it's not urgent, not really,' Rory sighed and leaned back in the armchair. 'Thanks, Miss Whitman.'

* * *

><p>'Hey.'<p>

'Hey, stranger,' Rory mumbled.

Seven hours later, he called. Must have been quite busy, as Miss Whitman had said. Seven hours. Four hundred and twenty minutes. _Luckily, no one bothers to keep track._

'Sulky,' Jess noted and she was sure he was smirking, as he often did when she got mad about something. For some twisted reason he found her anger extremely amusing. 'What are you doing?' he asked casually, choosing to ignore her bad mood.

'Thinking of grabbing the hand of every man about your age that I meet on my way back from work and take him home, because I took him to be my long missing boyfriend whose face and voice I forgot due to him being so busy he didn't even have time to call,' Rory rambled with childish fever.

She heard Jess' sincere laugh and for a moment she forgot she was mad at him and simply wished he was around.

'Every guy about my age - that's a lot of men, you know that, right?' he reasoned, still laughing.

'I'll only pick the sexy ones who have great taste in literature and enjoy mocking me, think it'll narrow the range,' Rory replied, shaking her head.

'Guess it will. Seriously, what are you doing?' he asked.

Rory sighed.

'Missing you, mainly,' she admitted, tired of being the irksome girlfriend. 'Working for a distraction. Think I'll get promoted by next week.'

'Chief Editor Gilmore,' he declaimed. 'Was about time.'

'Anyway, how are you doing? How's Chicago? Visited any interesting places already? Did you see some play in the theater?' she inquired.

'No, not yet. But guess who's performing this week.'

'Blondie' Rory guessed.

'Barry Manilow,' Jess chuckled.

'Ha, bet mom is gonna envy you. Wait, are you going?' she asked disbelievingly.

'Jeez, no. But Shirley is. Crazy woman. I'm meeting her now and we're gonna take the subway to 57th Street to visit a bookstore. She knows the owner. She knows everybody. Guess sixty eight years could come in handy, after all. Talking about... Hey, Shirley.'

Rory heard Shirley Whitman's voice, telling Jess something and then Jess saying something back, but suddenly it became increasingly noisy, with people's voices carrying through the phone.

'Ror?' Jess' voice came muffled.

'Jess?'

'Ror, you there? Ro...' she heard Jess' voice just as the connection failed.

* * *

><p>Rory headed for the front door, dragging her feet sleepily. It was after midnight and she couldn't imagine who would be waiting at her door at that unheavenly hour. Had to be a brave human being, to begin with. Waking up a Gilmore was a foolish self-mutilating act showing lack of self-preservation. Whoever dared to do that, had some guts.<p>

Rory absentmindedly took a heavy stapler from her desk on her way. Just in case. Lorelai senior would do exactly the same in her place, and her mother was one who had happily lived to enter her forties. Which meant she could be trusted.

'Identify yourself or go away,' Rory mumbled as she heard the bell ring once more, short and sharp, like a question mark.

'Humble wanderer, begging for shelter,' Jess' voice carried through the wood and Rory woke up immediately.

'Jess!' she exclaimed, opening the door hastily.

'Hey,' he smiled, stepping from one foot to the other, his hands behind his back.

Rory rooted herself at the doorstep, clad in only boxer briefs and an oversized **'We Believe in George Lucas'** T-shirt, a kid seeing Santa coming in through the chimney.

'Nice stapler, by the way. Very intimidating,' Jess smirked, nodding at the office device in her hand.

'Wha... What are you doing here?' Rory asked and licked her lips, both giddy and perplexed by his unexpected appearance.

_'Hello to you, too.'_

He was supposed to be in Chicago right now, having some good sleep before another book signing trip, not here in New York, showing up at her doorstep.

He looked a little nervous, so she bet something must have happened.

_'Is everything okay?'_

Jess shrugged a shoulder nonchalantly, keeping his hands behind his back. A man hiding his hands the way he tried to do with his emotions. Jess knew himself well enough to know that once lights were off it would suddenly feel easier to let them emerge, all these feelings a man claimed not to have in order to prove god-knows-what.

'We never finished that phone call,' he smiled a little shyly just before Rory stepped ahead and pulled him by the waist drawing him towards herself. He staggered a little before his hands found her face just as their lips met.

Jess breathed in and smiled against her lips. Vanilla and orange. He had spent an hour or more in a perfumery store in Boston, but he never managed to find the exact scent.

'I missed you,' he muttered, his breath warm and familiar against the corner of her mouth.

'You have no idea,' Rory sighed with delight as she felt his palms travel down against the small of her back, pressing her more into him.

The kiss had started slowly but it soon deepened, their lips claiming and demanding, trying to make up for the time apart.

Their hands found each other and joined, fingers lacing with unperturbed ease, the stapler falling forgotten with a muffled thud over the doormat.

Stumbling slightly as he guided Rory backwards into the apartment, Jess kicked the door closed with his foot. He felt the familiar stirring in his stomach, spreading up all over his body, making him ache for her everywhere her fingers left tingling traces against his skin. Home. There was a whole havoc related to that crazy sentimental concept and he would be a fool to claim this exact stir didn't make great part of it.

Rory felt her back hit the corridor wall but her attention was far more occupied with exploring the taut skin she had just got access to, her palms enjoying the way his muscles reacted to her touch. Jess had lost his jacket somewhere along the way and now she was struggling to discard him of the cotton pullover. Once she had done so, Jess' lips found hers, his hands tracing her sides down to her waist. As he leaned in to her to deepen the kiss, Rory's fingers curled around his neck. She felt a thin piece of metal against her fingers, something like a chain necklace, maybe. He pulled back to meet her eyes, his look searching. Searching for what, she couldn't tell. For a brief moment she inspected the thin silver chain. It had something like a circle pendant hanging from it, but before she had time to ask where he got it, Jess' lips were back over hers, catching them more urgently, sending the question away and replacing it with the feeling of him coming at her like waves. Waves that made her abandon herself to him, taking all strength away from her knees, making them weaker than jelly. Right now, thought processes seemed like a distant, useless concept and the only thing that made sense was finding a way to get closer to him.

Jess' palms slid under the Lucas T-shirt and peeled it off, tossing it to the floor and Rory couldn't keep a moan when he pulled her closer and scooped her up in his arms against the wall.

They both chuckled as they crashed against the bed. She had missed the feeling of his weight over her, the whirl that this mixture tobacco and cologne evoked in her head, the way he tensed every time she shifted under him, as if he was afraid she might run away. A slow dance where two dancers sailed through the dark, both followed and led, so fragile and so much stronger at the same time.

Close. Closer. As close as two people could ever be. Her breath choked in her throat.

'Look at me,' he whispered hoarsely, his voice carrying through the blissful haze in her head and lifting her eyelids open to meet his eyes. An unvoiced promise two lovers shared. A commitment to each other that left traces as deep as their own essence. And suddenly the world was theirs, just because they had somehow become each other's world.

* * *

><p>'Where did you get this?' Rory asked as her fingers slid up over his chest and found the silver chain.<p>

Jess' breath caught in his lungs for a second before he let it out slowly.

They were lying in bed, her Christmas lights flicking cheerfully from the window. Her head was resting on his shoulder, her eyes peacefully closed and her fingers were lazily playing with the pendant.

'I never saw you as the jewelry type,' she teased and pulled the necklace to draw him closer and perk a kiss on his cheek. 'C'mon, tell me, what is it?' she asked curiously.

Jess shifted to disentangle from her a little stiffly.

'Where you going?' She chuckled at his sudden change of heart.

Jess got off the bed and slid into his boxers under Rory's perplexed gaze. Rory sat up in the bed, her smile getting confused.

'Jess?'

What was going on, had he suddenly got a satellite message and gone all mute?

Jess ran a hand though his hair slowly and bit his lip.

'Okay, _now_ you're freaking me out,' Rory said, her sense of humor gradually giving way to her confusion.

'It's...' Jess started, his throat feeling extremely dry. He took a breath and let it out slowly. 'It's your ring,' he said at last and his eyes followed the shifts of her expression in excruciating detail.

Rory's lips moved, but she couldn't find her voice to speak.

Jess took the chain off his neck and sat at the end of the bed, holding it in his hands.

'I... I've been carrying it around for a while, guess I was waiting for the right time.' He smiled and shook his head. 'Guess the right time never comes, eh?'

'Yes.' Rory smiled weakly.

'So, I decided to keep it around and then, well, it is what it is, it's your ring whether or not you take it and you'll say what you'll say...'

'Yes.'

'So, here it is, ... what?' he asked as his mind clicked into gear.

'Yes, yes, yes, yes, YES!' Rory said, both laughing and feeling her eyes get wetter with every second.

'Yes.' Jess echoed disbelievingly.

'Yes,' Rory nodded eagerly and threw her arms around him.

With a little delay he closed his arms around her, too, closing his eyes and sighing with relief.

'Good. Cause I don't really know what I'd do if you had said no.'

* * *

><p><strong>Mood song, '500 Miles' by 'The Proclaimers'<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>I hope you enjoyed, you know how to let me know what you thought:):):) <strong>


	18. Rangers and Thieves

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything, the characters belong to the show and I make no profit of them. Aarif's all mine, though:P**

_AN/ Okay, guys, I know you were expecting a wedding chapter here, with fluff and vows and wedding bells ensued, BUT I've decided to move the plot onwards with 6 months, so in this chapter Jess and Rory are already married. I promise to give some details on the wedding in one of the next chapters, I've planned it and hope it'll work that way, though you may hate me for being a romance-breaker :S:P _

_And here comes another thing. Remember Aarif, the Pakistani guru/psychological Dr House guy? Hope you liked the character, cause he's gonna step into the storyline any time soon and he's got a pretty important role in the events that will follow.  
><em>

_So, you've been warned, I hope you keep reading and, as always, I hope you enjoy:)  
><em>

* * *

><p><em>6 months later...<em>

* * *

><p>'<strong>To forgive is to set a prisoner free and discover that the prisoner was you.'<strong>

**Lewis B. Smedes**

* * *

><p><em><strong>Rangers and Thieves<strong>_**_: _**

_**The game is played by four kids or more. One kid is picked to count to ten, eyes closed. Everyone else gives one of their belongings. One of the kids gives two belongings /one is for the kid who is counting/. Then, the kid who had been counting looks at the belongings and defines who is a ranger and who's a thief.**_

_**The rangers count to ten /eyes closed/ while the thieves hide away. Then the rangers start searching for the thieves and chase them until they catch them. When they catch them, they say 'From now on, to and fro, you become my bro' and the caught thief becomes a ranger... **_

* * *

><p>'... and puffy curtains,' Rory said, lifting her head to perk a chaste kiss at the corner of Jess' mouth.<p>

They were walking towards his place holding hands, smiling against the morning rays of sun that had just showed up, reflected in the skyscrapers' windows. They had spent last night at her place, packing some stuff until about midnight.

'You just enjoy my agony, don't you?' Jess asked, exaggerated torture in his voice.

'A little,' Rory admitted and chuckled against his shoulder as he pulled her closer to kiss the top of her head. 'If we're moving in a new apartment, we have to establish our own mark,' she added in defense.

'Our mark is not puffy curtains,' Jess assured.

'It isn't?' Rory pouted, childishly disappointed.

'It isn't.' Jess confirmed and his grin grew wider.

He couldn't stop smiling, that unlikely happy grin plastered over his face for months. When Matt and Chris came to visit two weeks ago, they had officially proclaimed him a looney. Old normal Jess had been replaced by that married goofy denatured guy with the smile. Jess didn't mind. These last months had been the happiest in his life and if being a looney was what it took to feel that way, he was willingly giving all sanity up.

'What about a Venus de Milo statue in the living room?' Rory suggested enthusiastically.

'Only if we manage to fit a Zeus fountain into the bathroom,' Jess chuckled.

They had almost reached his block of flats. It was just across the street from the 24/7 supermarket they had just passed by.

'Oh, and we can have a Hermes mailbox and bedsheets with Morpheus... though I think we'll only be able to find ones with Morpheus from The Matrix Trilogy and I'm not sure I'd be able to fall asleep with him in bed. I mean, it would be almost like there are three of us in there, you know? Anyway, maybe we'll find someone who'd _paint_ Greek Morphie sheets for us, what do you say? Jess?' Rory cut her babble to turn back and look at Jess who had stopped walking, standing rooted to the spot. He was staring ahead as if he'd seen a ghost.

'Jess, you okay?' Rory frowned and stepped back to touch his arm.

'Aarif?' Jess mumbled, his throat dry.

Rory looked back towards the sidewalk and saw the young man Jess was referring to. Tall and wiry, olive skin, black hair and inky eyes. The man surely matched the description, only she had imagined Aarif older. And more hairy maybe. The man who was standing in front of them was no more than thirty five, if not less, clad in light blue jeans and a white T-shirt, he looked pretty much like a local. Not that anyone could really expect him to come wearing a turban and shalwar kameez...

'Been a while, yaar*,' Aarif said, giving Jess a slow nod.

Rory noticed the accent. Though spelled correctly, the words came out much softer. Combined with his low timbre, Aarif's voice reminded Rory of the one of a voice actor she had listened to on a cassette tape as a child, one with 1001 Nights stories.

Jess made a few fast steps ahead and pulled Aarif into a hug.

'It's really good to see you, man,' Jess sighed as he tapped Aarif's back. 'It's really good to see you.'

Jess stepped back and turned to Rory.

'Aarif, meet my wife, Rory,' he added with unhidden pride.

Whenever he presented her to someone since the wedding, he didn't miss to add 'my wife'. Rory had told him he was getting obsessed and asked him in a pseudo-scared tone if he would become one of those psychotic jealousy-driven husbands who waved their wives like a flag in society. She couldn't believe he didn't grasp the humor in her words back then, when instead of laughing he got all sullen and said he never meant to wave anything. She had burst into sincere laughter, granting him with a brief kiss on the cheek and saying she wouldn't mind if he presented her like his wife Mrs Mariano, she loved the way it sounded, plus people would think she was Italian.

Rory and Aarif exchanged a nod.

'I think we both kind of feel we know each other,' Rory smiled as Aarif took her hands between his and pressed them between his palms for a brief moment before letting go.

'I think we do,' Aarif smiled shyly while his eyes studied her.

There was a strange combination of shyness and intensity in Aarif's eyes Rory had never seen in anyone else before. His soft features were a little tense when he smiled, expressing certain reserve, his smile somehow modest and polite, but his eyes were very lively and expressed an intense thought process. She remembered Jess once saying that you never really knew what Aarif was thinking and maybe that was why when he did talk, his words had an impact.

'Come on in, man,' Jess waved to Aarif to follow them into the block. 'You surely know how to make an appearance,' he shook his head as they started up the stairs and as his eyes met Rory's, she saw a certain glitter in them, the one she knew Jess had only for a few people in the world. Now one of these people had reappeared in his life, a myth coming into existence right before Rory's eyes.

* * *

><p>'When are you moving?' Aarif asked, his eyes gliding over the packed boxes and half empty shelves in the kitchen as he sat on the chair Jess had offered him.<p>

'We've been packing for ages,' Rory sighed as she gave Aarif a steaming cup of tea and sat on a box opposite him, holding her own coffee mug. 'Jess bought an apartment so that we can move in together. He's a rich man now,' she added with a wink as Jess rolled his eyes at her words.

'I read your book. _**'Ambush',** _right?' Aarif asked. 'At first I couldn't find it. You changed the title,' he noted and drank from his tea.

Jess shrugged and shook his head.

'Try arguing with my publisher,' he chuckled and lifted his bottle of beer. 'She can move objects with the bare intensity of her scorn. Even inanimate matter cannot bear her disdain,' he added, clicking his fingers, mimicking disappearance, and then drank from the beer. 'What about you, man? It's been a year, what's going on with you?'

Aarif leaned forward and slowly put his cup over the coffee table.

'I need your help,' he said quietly, seriously, looking Jess straight in the eye.

Aarif and Jess kept the eye-lock for a while and at last Jess nodded. When he turned towards Rory, she was already making her way to the bar plot where she left her mug. She then turned back and smiled.

'I just realized I need to go to the supermarket,' she chirped. 'The far away supermarket,' she added after a brief pause, 'Yeah. You know, I need to exercise more, it's good for my health, and I always say I should start, so I guess I'll be out for a while,' she explained nonsensically. 'And I feel like pickles. So I guess I'll just have to go take a walk, exercise and find some... pickles. Right.' Rory nodded to herself and after leaving a kiss over Jess' forehead made her way in the corridor. 'Oh,' she stopped on her way, 'I almost forgot,' she turned to Aarif, 'welcome to New York, Aarif,' she elated and then disappeared behind the door under Jess and Aarif's perplexed gaze.

* * *

><p>'Aarif, what's going on?' Jess asked as he stood up and left his beer on the bar plot, next to Rory's coffee mug.<p>

Aarif stood up, too.

'I came here because I need your help. But I have to tell you some things first,' Aarif started, cryptic as ever.

'Okay...' Jess frowned but gave him a nod.

'At some point you won't want to listen,' Aarif continued seriously, 'but I need you to hear it all first and then I will answer all your questions.'

Jess studied his friend for a while, a beat of silence until he moved to sit on a box and leaned forward to rest his arms against his knees.

'I'm listening, yaar.' Jess said patiently and his eyes met Aarif's.

'You know I served in a garrison,' Aarif started, pacing slowly to the window and then back to the bar plot. 'I had told you I'd spent only the two compulsory years there and then decided the military didn't suit me,' he continued. Jess' eyes followed him intently. 'I lied.'

If he had to be honest, Jess wasn't surprised. Not really. During the time spent together, he got the impression that his friend had had some professional military experience. It was something you couldn't control consciously, it was something laid deep in his reflexes and the way Aarif reacted in an emergency. Jess suspected his friend hid some facts about himself, but he never dug deeper, assuming that if Aarif didn't want to tell him something, he had a good reason not to.

'I know,' Jess nodded. 'It showed at times,' he added with a shrug when he met Aarif's slightly surprised gaze.

Aarif nodded slowly and made a pause. His look was focused somewhere out of the window when he said, 'Military forces are a screen that is used to shield political purposes. And people who serve in the army know that. But it's addictive and at some point, when you need to belong somewhere, you become a part of that shield.'

Aarif turned back to face Jess.

'For seven years I was one of those men. They even wanted me to join the special forces. I think I would, but then I met Leena and that changed everything. I retired and became a civilian. But when I lost her, I returned and took the job. There wasn't a mission I wouldn't take. I would go any place, risk anything. I didn't think I had anything left to lose.' Aarif made a pause, longer than the previous, and then sat on a box opposite Jess.

'When I met you in that bookshop in Quetta, it wasn't a coincidence,' Aarif said slowly, pronouncing each word carefully. Jess stood still and waited for Aarif to finish, although he inwardly knew where this conversation was going. 'I knew exactly who you were, I knew you were looking for an interpreter and I knew you liked Hemingway. The 'Farewell to Arms' copy we almost fought over, I had left it there a few minutes before you came in the bookshop and then all I had to do was wait for you.'

Jess took a breath and let it out slowly, processing the information. Their meeting, the book, the talk, the job offer, everything seemed to go in slow motion in his head, only this time in a completely different perspective.

'This whole time, you were spying on me,' Jess uttered, the words coming out hard, leaving behind a feeling of betrayal and disdain. He stood up abruptly and moved to leave. Aarif stood up, too, moving to block his way.

'Jess, we don't have much time, you haven't heard everything,' Aarif said pleadingly, putting his hands up in an effort to calm Jess down.

'Save it,' Jess hissed with despise, trying to go past Aarif.

'You have to trust me,' Aarif insisted, blocking Jess' way again.

'Trust you? _Trust_ you? I don't even _know_ you,' Jess burst out.

'You know me.' Aarif sighed and his arms dropped by his sides. 'You just didn't know _everything_ about me.'

Their eyes met and for a moment they kept the eye lock.

'Who are you?' Jess asked, disgust making its way through.

'Your friend,' Aarif said seriously.

'Back off,' Jess scoffed and tried to push Aarif out of his way.

'Jess, please...'

'I said, back off,' Jess raised his voice, pushing Aarif aside forcefully. When he felt Aarif's hand over his shoulder, Jess turned back swiftly and pitched a fist over the taller man's cheek. The next moment Jess' hands were twisted behind his back, held with just enough force to hold him into place. Professional military forces experience. Yeah, it showed at times.

'I don't wanna fight with you.' Aarif said exasperatedly, pleadingly.

Jess froze into place, took a breath and then swiveled abruptly so that he managed to kick Aarif backwards in the knees and as he felt the taller man's grip loosen, Jess lifted his fist in the air, ready for another round. They stood like this for a moment, both breathing heavily, Jess' hand trembling.

'You shouldn't have come here,' Jess sighed and put his hand down, moving aside as a sign for Aarif to leave.

'I had no choice,' Aarif shook his head. 'You're the only one I trust,' he said sadly and then went past Jess.

Jess watched Aarif as he walked out, then sat on a box and put his head in his hands.

* * *

><p>Jess shifted uneasily one more time and put his arm under his head, staring at the ceiling. He threw a sideways glance at the gracile figure sleeping beside him. Rory's head was peacefully resting on the pillow and he smiled inwardly at the sight of her composed features. As he blinked and stared at the ceiling for some more, thoughts started flooding his head, memories rising up from the bottom of his mind.<p>

_It was one of these days when the sun burnt the skin, making walking in the open feel like living hell. He and Aarif had been walking for an hour now and the village didn't seem even remotely close. All they could see were some plain cliffs in the distance_. _They walked in silence so that they didn't waste energy talking. Plus Aarif had been strange lately. He had always been secretive, but for the last week he had created a new definition of secrecy, at least according to Jess' experience. It was fine with him, anyway. The last week had been pretty productive, so he was busy scribbling his notes, typing half of the night, spending half of the day in a doze. _

_In about twenty minutes they reached the cliffs. Aarif looked around and slowed his pace. Jess followed suit and just as he was going to ask Aarif why they were slowing down, Aarif put his forefinger before his lips, making Jess keep quiet. Jess nodded and also looked around. Before he had time to make another move, he felt an arm close around his neck. Next thing he knew, he was struggling with a man he had never seen before, trying to get a grasp at where Aarif was... _

_The moment he lay eyes on him, Jess saw two men were holding his friend by the arms and a third one was arguing with him in Urdu. The next moment, Jess himself felt a gun pointed at his temple. Classic. But last thing on his mind was to think of the lameness of the situation. He couldn't get the whole conversation, only extracted words. As far as Jess could understand, considering his scarce knowledge of Urdu, Aarif told them that the American had nothing to do with him, Aarif only accompanied him to show him the village. The men didn't seem convinced, but they didn't object, either._

_ Jess and Aarif were taken to something resembling a camp between the cliffs. As they sat down and the men started tying Jess' hands, their eyes met and for the first and last time for two years, Jess saw Aarif look upset. Sorry, Aarif mouthed and looked away._

* * *

><p>Jess shifted again, cursing the ceiling for the lack of distracions it offered, moved the sheet away and got off the bed. He grabbed a T-shirt from the chair and put it on, throwing a last glance at Rory before leaving the room. As he walked into the kitchen, the cold tiles provided a slight glimpse of reality. He went over to the fridge and leaned against its open door for a moment before taking out a beer.<p>

_I could really use a beer right now, Jess thought while he watched the armed soldier make circles around them. He was wearing sand cotton uniform and a khaki field cap. It surely was more than forty degrees and breathing the hot dry air in felt like trying to run around in an oven. Jess had been trying to release his hands from the tight knot of the rope for what seemed like years and just as he felt it loosen some half an inch, he met Aarif's eyes and he saw the silent warning in them, making him stop his work on the rope. He felt thirsty and dizzy._

_One of the armed men brought a blue flask and the soldiers started exchanging it, each of them drinking only once. Jess' eyes followed the exchange, focused on the azure hue of the flask and he smiled. '... you are way stronger than that and I don't even wanna hear it... just me saying you could do more' 'I moved back... Why?... Just... wanted to.' 'I couldn't have done it without you.' 'Bye, Rory... Bye, Jess...'  
><em>

_His eyelids fell heavy over the world,covering Aarif and the armed man, covering the sapphire bliss of the memory, covering the cliffs, the sand and the sun, the sun, the sun..._

**_THE SUN kept setting, setting still;_**

**_No hue of afternoon_**

**_Upon the village I perceived, -_**

**_From house to house't was noon._**

**_The dusk kept dropping, dropping still;_**

**_No dew upon the grass,_**

**_But only on my forehead stopped,_**

**_And wandered in my face._**

**_My feet kept drowsing, drowsing still,_**

**_My fingers were awake;_**

**_Yet why so little sound myself_**

**_Unto my seeming make?_**

**_How well I knew the light before!_**

**_I could not see it now._**

**_'T is dying, I am doing; but_**

**_I 'm not afraid to know._**

* * *

><p>Rory padded into the kitchen, watching her way between the packed boxes. She was wrapped up in a blanket, her eyes half closed in the dim light. She saw Jess in the dining room, sitting on the floor by the bookshelf, reading an Emily Dickinson copy, a half-empty beer bottle beside him.<p>

_So out of character_, she thought as she watched him, _he always hated poetry for being a poor excuse for word abuse… _

She watched him for a minute or so. Jess, anyway, was oblivious to the world outside the book and his own head. Deep in thought, he rubbed his temples with his thumb and middle finger and Rory considered going back to bed, thus leaving him alone with his thoughts. In the end, she decided on a compromise between staying and leaving, taking the book she had left on the fridge this morning and nestling herself on the white sheet covered sofa. If he wanted to talk, she was there. If he didn't, he didn't... She hoped he would.

'_Come on, Sleeping Beauty, wake up. Jess, wake up. Up, come on, man, up!' _

_Jess opened his eyes and saw Aarif who was kneeling beside him, holding a pocket knife and having a hard time cutting the rope around Jess' legs. It was now that Jess felt his hands were already freed and he took a hold of the rope around his ankles, so that Aarif would manage to cut it faster._

'_How did you get out of there?' Jess, a little short of breath, asked a minute later, when they were about half a mile away from the camp._

'_Was in the barracks, remember?' Aarif answered after thinking his answer over for a little longer than it usually took him._

_Jess' eyebrows cocked up, aware of his companion's mysterious past when it came to anything different than his grandparents and his childhood, but he didn't comment. If Aarif didn't want to tell something, nothing could possibly be done about it. Not that it was so essential to know if the guy had gone to Shaolin or something, as long as they got their asses alive outta here. It didn't really matter why these guys were after them, either. Cause they were, Jess could tell._

_ Jess heard a gunshot somewhere behind his back, making his heart thump even wilder._

'_We're almost there, run!' he heard Aarif's voice shout somewhere beside his shoulder. Thanks, man, I was just about to stop and sit down have a picnic._

_ Aarif. What had he got them into? Judging by his companion's nature of character, Jess would never know, did they get outta here alive or not._

_ However, Aarif was right about one thing. They were almost there. The first couple of houses came into sight just before Jess heard another gunshot. This one was different. It came somehow closer to the ear, the sound dying out soon enough for him to know it hadn't missed the point this time. For a second he wondered if it was him or Aarif. Another blast reminded Jess it didn't really matter, as long as their stalkers were getting closer. He bent down and rolled over the sand, grasping the sight of Aarif trying to get up from the sand, his left hand pressed to his bleeding shoulder._

'_Go on!' Aarif groaned._

_Jess swallowed dryly and took a handful of sand in each hand, lying still in the sand, waiting for the armed man who shot once again to come closer. He had never been into poker, but he had always thought that if he was, he would bet all or nothing._

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><p><strong><em>TO make a prairie it takes a clover and one bee,—<em>**

**_One clover, and a bee,_**

**_And revery._**

**_The revery alone will do_**

**_If bees are few._**

Jess lifted the beer bottle up and found out it was empty. He put the book aside and straightened up, looking around the room. Rory was there, sleeping on the sofa, a book threatening to slip between her relaxed fingers. He took the picture in and felt his racing thoughts slow down for a moment. There were times in his life when he knew whatever had happened, for whatever reason, being where he was now made it worthwhile. He knew it soon after he landed in Quetta, he knew it when Rory sat next to him on that bench in the park, and he knew it now.

Jess stood up slowly, minding the books he had left open on the floor so that he didn't tumble and wake Rory, and walked over to the sofa, carefully lying next to her. As she felt him settle next to her, she shifted lazily and turned aside so that he could scoop her body up in his. He had found it immensely amusing when she had first used the term 'spoon position' in a talk, laughing at the naivety of the phrasing. Now, as he felt her curl up into him, he felt something inside him cringe. In a kind, nice, loving way.

'You okay?' Rory mumbled and intertwined her fingers with his.

Jess didn't answer for a while, but wrapped his arms tighter around her.

'Sorry I woke you,' he whispered in her hair. 'Come on, let's get some sleep,' he said and kissed her temple.

Rory shook her head, trying to chase the sleep away faster.

'No, not yet. You didn't answer my question.'

'Which one? You tend to ask a lot of them in a day, Ms Amanpour.'

_I just need to know you'll be all right._ Rory sighed, looking for a less cliché way to put it but before she had opened her mouth, Jess, to her surprise, spoke.

'Remember when you asked me when I got the scar on the hip?' he started a little uneasily. Rory nodded once against his shoulder. 'I saved his ass,' he continued with a bitter jibe in his voice. 'I saved his ass and he was after mine, this whole time he was spying on me. The bastard betrayed me.' Jess exhaled harshly and Rory squeezed his hand slightly.

'I know it's not equitable to compare these, but when I thought you were gonna leave for God-knows-where and told mum you had betrayed me, you know what she said?'

'Sure. She took out the sharpened stake she had been keeping behind the door in case of a Jess emergency and asked you what took you so long to figure me out,' Jess quipped, his voice heavy with sarcasm.

Rory disentangled herself from him to shift so that she could face him.

'She asked me if I was sure that I had understood the situation correctly,' Rory said carefully. 'Or, maybe, he didn't betray you. That's what she told me, Jess,' she explained quietly and her thumb found his cheekbone.

Jess shook his head in disagreement, making her hand draw back.

'She didn't even know what…'

'She knew _you_,' Rory interrupted him. 'And she knew me, too. Well enough to tell that I was wasting the tears.'

'Tears, huh?' Jess teased with a smug smirk on his face.

'Wasted was the key point in the statement, Watson.' Rory rolled her eyes and turned again, leaving him smirk at her nape.

'Noted.'

He shifted so that he cupped her body again, adjusting against her curves.

'Come on, Holmes, let's get some sleep.' Jess closed his eyes and breathed the orange-vanilla scent in.

Her breathing evened quickly and Jess listened to its regular rhythm for a while, as her words kept ricocheting in his head.

'_Or, maybe, he didn't betray you.'_

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><p><strong>Mood song - Foo Fighters – 'Best of you'<strong>

**Poems used in the chapter - written by Emily Dickinson**

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><p>* <span>yaar<span> - friend, buddy in Urdu and Hindi.

* * *

><p><em>Okay, guys, cards are on the table, Aarif's all in the story now. I hope he'll get your interest, cause I really love his character and hope you won't find it distracting that he's gonna take a considerable part in the future storyline. I promise you enough JessRory scenes, of course, as well as some action in the next chapters. So, hope you stick with me until the next update:) And, if anyone got curious, I imagine the actor Imran Khan as Aarif:)_

**Thank you all for reading, I'm really curious what you think about Aarif stepping in, so please let me know - you know just how to:)**


	19. Stranger At The Door, Part1

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, they belong to the show. Aarif's all mine, though:P**

_AN/ Well, guys, I must admit this chapter is giving me some trouble, both because there is a certain change in the genre, and because I feel I owe you an at least remotely good piece of writing here for being so patient and for giving me the thumbs up for Aarif's entrance into the story._ _I'm doing a little reading marathon now, trying to attune my writing to the spirit of events that will follow. And I'm torn between the urge to simply pour it all out and the need to put some work into it and make it readable... You see, in my head I know exactly what happens next, I can picture everything like in a video or something, but when it comes to writing, oh well, it's kind of a challenge for me to write this properly:):P_

_ Anyway, I'll do my best, so I truly hope I'll do you justice and not disappoint you when this chapter comes to existence:) Thank you all for following this story, it means so much to me!:):):)_

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><p><strong>'Never act until you have clearly answered the question: <em>"What happens if I do nothing?"<em> '  
><strong>

**Robert Brault**

* * *

><p>'Jess?'<p>

'Mmm,' Jess mumbled sleepily.

'Do we have grapefruit?'

'Mmm,' Jess' reply came muffled against the pillow.

'Oh,' Rory bit her lip. 'Okay.'

She lifted the sheet carefully, shifting to get off the bed.

Jess' hand glided over her stomach and fell on the bed as she moved and he lifted his head slightly.

'I'll be back,' Rory whispered quietly, making her way to the wardrobe.

She put a pair of sweatpants and a tank top on.

Jess shifted, too, sitting in the bed, his eyes half closed.

'Where ya goin',' he asked with a voice scratchy with sleep while rubbing his eyes with his thumb and point finger.

'On a grapefruit hunt,' Rory admitted, heading for the bedroom door. 'I'll be right back,' she assured before she went out.

Jess got off the bed a little discordantly and followed her into the living room, dragging his feet sleepily.

'Wait,' he said as he raised his hand to block the lamp light as he entered room. 'It's late, I'll go,' he added, yawning, taking a hoodie from the armchair and looking for a pair of jeans.

'You will?' Rory gushed. 'Oh, you're the best husband I've had so far, I'm so lucky to have you, Mariano! I also want ice cream, the strawberry chocolate sprinkled one with the almonds and that cinnamon apple swirl with a zest of orange peel, maybe some burritos and...'

'Just gimme a minute... Jeez, what time is it?' he asked, running a hand through his hair, squinting in an attempt to focus the clock they had hung over the desk.

'One thirty,' Rory bit a lip. 'Jess?' she asked, her features getting a little apprehensive as she looked at him.

'Huh?' he replied absentmindedly while fighting his way into his jeans, still in a doze.

He was so tired when he came back from work last night, he fell asleep almost immediately after they went to bed. She felt guilty she woke him up in the dead of night just because she had a grapefruit emergency.

'Am I insufferable?' she asked guiltily.

Jess' eyebrows lifted slightly and he leaned over her shoulder on his way to the corridor.

'Intolerable,' he smirked against her neck and left a light kiss over her pulse spot before moving on to the corridor.

Rory pouted emphatically and his smirk grew wider as he bent to tie his snickers.

'I'm a masochist,' he explained with a shrug and stood up, ready to go.

If he had to be honest, such kind of torture he would gladly welcome for the rest of his life.

'My hero,' Rory elated as she watched Jess go out. '_And_ audacious grapefruit supplier,' she added and heard him chuckle.

* * *

><p>'Well, ma'am,' Jess announced as he opened the front door, 'here are your long-anticipated grapefruits. It's gonna be raining the whole night, it just started now and I'm al...'<p>

Jess turned the light switch and froze, his breath hitching in his throat.

He had seen enough blood in his life to recognize how it looked over a tile or a wall. And, right now, there were fresh blood drops over _his_ corridor tiles and bloody handprints traced _his_ corridor wall all the way to the living room.  
>He let the shopping bags slip off his hands, feeling something tighten his chest as his steps seemed to take too much time, his feet feeling lead heavy, everything happening in slow motion.<p>

'Rory?' he asked, his voice coming out suffocated as he made a few hasty steps, crossing the corridor.

Thump. Thump. Thump-thump-thump-thump. His rapid heartbeats, marking panic's victory, creeping up under his skin, taking over. Your world could shrink in and disappear in mere seconds. For a moment, Jess' world did.

His hands were shaky when he opened the door of the living room. The umbrella he had instinctively taken on his way fell to the floor.

* * *

><p><em>10 minutes earlier<em>

'You're fast and will be rewarded,' Rory cheered as she heard the doorbell and hurried towards the front door. She surged to give Jess a hug but when she opened the door fully, Rory saw the man who was leaning against the door frame. That man wasn't her husband. She moved a step back instinctively.

'Aarif?'

* * *

><p><em>Meanwhile, in an apartment somewhere on 68th Str., NY<em>

'Come on, Paris, to the bottom!' Larry Burrows, future gastroenterologist, cried out. 'We're immortals! Im-mor-tals!' He celebrated, lifting a fist in the air.

'We're immortals!' Paris Geller affirmed, lifting her glass in the air and then drowning it. 'Gra-du-a-tion!' she chanted, followed by a dozen future doctors who followed suit and raised their glasses before drowning them.

'To us! The future of medicine! Cheers, everyone!' Paris elated just as her mobile rang. Or just as she _felt_ it ringing in her pocket, it could've well been ringing for an hour and she wouldn't even notice.

She slipped the hand that wasn't holding the glass in her pocket and took the mobile out. As she saw _Rory_ flash from the display, she sighed and got off the chair she had been standing on, heading for the balcony.

'Just so you know, you're the only person I would pick up to, I'm so drunk and you're the only one who's seen me worse.'

'Paris, I need your help,' Rory's exasperated voice carried.

Paris closed her eyes and leaned back over the door frame, but felt dizzy, so she opened them again. The city lights were glimmering before her, she had a bit of a sore taste in her mouth and she still felt dizzy. And Graduation day wasn't even over yet.

'You're not calling to congratulate me, then?' Paris' sighed, half-irritated, half-disappointed. 'See, that's what I've been busting myself for through the last six years - to help people, and what do I get in return? Everyone will remember me only when they need me, even my best friend calls me on my graduation night just because she needs my he...'

'Paris...' Rory pleaded but her friend was lost in her rant.

'Nanny always told me, don't let people think you're only there to be at their service, or you'll become a piece of furniture; look at me, she said, I've always been trying to help people and I'm never gonna outlive the Nanny exterior, I'll always be mere furniture, but what's more important...'

'Please, _Paris_! Concentrate! Focus!' Rory's voice came in desperate. 'There's a shot man in my apartment and I need you to come help me! We can't take him to hospital, I'll explain everything to you later... Paris? Paris, _please_!'

Paris blinked a couple of times, trying to gather her thoughts into a meaningful bunch. It didn't work.

'What do you mean shot? Like shot with a camera?' Paris guessed hopefully.

'Gunshot, I mean _gunshot_... Oh, God...' Rory sighed.

There was a beat of silence. It stretched for a while.

'Call me a taxi,' Paris said, and her voice suddenly sounded more sober. 'The address is 143 at 68th Str. And write down a couple of things, you'll need to go to the pharmacy.'

Paris heard Rory sigh with relief from the other end of the line.

'And don't say 'Thank you, Paris' or 'I'm so sorry, Paris',' Paris snapped, turning to leave the balcony and go back into the room where the rest of her colleagues were celebrating, carefree and oblivious to the rest of the world.

'Happy Graduation Day, Paris,' Rory whispered just before the line broke.

* * *

><p>'Jess, I need you to go to the pharmacy,' Rory said as she lifted her head and saw him stand at the door.<p>

'Aarif has been shot, I called Paris and she's on her way,' Rory said evenly, mechanically, while trying to cut Aarif's jacket so that she could uncover his shoulder blade.

Aarif was sitting on the sofa with his back to Rory, his blood covered palms flat on his knees, his knuckles going white with the effort not to move. His olive skin was now pale, impossibly pale. His otherwise lively eyes were foggy, encircled with dark shades.

Jess stood motionless, taking the facts in. Aarif looked at him straight in the eye and as their eyes met, Jess' jaw clenched.

'There is a list on the shelf,' Rory added, finally managing to remove the clothing out of the wound. Aarif swallowed hard and let a breath out slowly. 'Jess...' Rory pleaded, her eyes insisting.

'Nobody followed me,' Aarif said gravely, his voice coming out hoarse, his eyes still on Jess'. 'I made sure.'

Jess gave Rory a short nod, took the sheet of paper from the shelf and disappeared behind the door.

* * *

><p>Rory was standing on the balcony, her arms wrapped around herself self-consciously. She breathed in deeply with her eyes closed, trying to clear her head. It didn't work.<p>

The smell of blood, sharp and iron-like, had nestled in her memory, refusing to register out of her olfactory receptors. She had spent the last ten minutes in the bathroom, rubbing her hands in order to wash the blood away, feeling like it would stay there forever. Who chose to deal with such stuff consciously? Well, Paris did, but Rory never shared her friend's love for medicine. Paris... Rory had never thought she would ever have to call Paris for professional help but, what do you know, life's full of fate twisting points, isn't it?... One minute you're in the middle of a grapefruit emergency, and the other one there's a gunshot man at your door...

Aarif. Tonight Rory learned something new about Aarif. Something she had never thought of, before. She realized it the moment she saw him at her doorstep, all wet from the rain, his face pale and his jacket soaked with his own blood... Aarif was trouble. Somehow she suspected Jess was well aware of this side of his friend and maybe that was why he was so stubborn in refusing to hear him out. Jess didn't want Aarif's mess in his life. No, Jess didn't want Aarif's mess in _Rory's life_. And, if she had to be honest, neither did Rory.

But she had been observing Jess ever since their fight with Aarif, almost two weeks ago. He'd never admit it, but he was worried about Aarif. He was angry and disappointed, of course, but he was also worried. There were bonds laid too deep to be broken, a connection between them that would stretch no matter how much time had passed. That cheesy Chinese proverb they used in cartoons, the one saying once you've saved someone's life, you're gonna stay connected forever... Well, maybe there was such a thing, after all...

Despite all the question marks Aarif had surrounded himself with, there was something Rory was sure about. Aarif was important to Jess, no matter what Jess said or did right now. And she would never stand in Jess' way.

The slight odor of Jess' cologne made Rory open her eyes and turn towards the balcony door.

Paris had most probably kicked him out of the room so that she could work undisturbed.

Rory observed Jess' face for a while and then reached for his hand, lacing her fingers with his. He squeezed her hand back slightly and she drew him closer, nestling her head against his shoulder.

* * *

><p>'Hepatitis?'<p>

'No.'

'AIDS?'

'No.'

'Syphilis?'

'No.'

'Leishmaniasis?'

'What's that?' Aarif's eyebrows knit together.

'Whatever,' Paris shook her head dismissively, putting a pair of latex surgical gloves on. Aarif was watching her in a doze.

'Do you know what day today is?' she asked coldly.

Aarif's forehead furrowed.

'June, 23rd,' he answered weakly, squinting as he felt Paris put a disinfection bandage over the wound.

'No,' Paris corrected him, 'Today was my Graduation Day,' she said and threw the blood-soaked bandage in an empty ice-cream box she had asked Rory to bring earlier.

'Do you know that what I'm doing here is illegal?' she continued, rubbing a stainless steel medical pincette with an alcohol disinfection tampon.

'You're supposed to be in a hospital right now, or in the police, or, I don't know, the Immigration Police Department?' Paris reasoned, leaving the pincette aside before reaching out to the coffee table and taking a lighter.

'Gimme your hand,' she demanded nervously and put the lighter into Aarif's unshot hand.

'Keep it lit,' she ordered and started moving the pincette through the flame, Aarif's eyes following her moves closely.

'They can take away my doctor's license for that, and I don't even have a doctor's license to be taken away yet! And it will all be your fault!' she continued her monologue, giving him an accusing look. 'You have an Arabic nose, do you know that? Are you a terrorist? God, please don't tell me you've eaten a whole kilo of potatoes mushed with nitroglycerin, you wouldn't do that, would you? But then again, nobody says they would, yet some people do it. Are you one of those people? No, don't tell me, I don't wanna know,' Paris shook her head in frustration.

Aarif swallowed hard, concentrated over the hot steel, but held on to the lighter until Paris was done.

'Do you know that I was celebrating when Rory called? Technically, I'm not fully conscious, I'm _tipsy_. Do you know what tipsy means? I can well sew your nose to your shoulder blade and not even recognize something's wrong,' she continued fervently.

'Here,' she added, giving Aarif the bottle she had made Jess bring earlier. 'You're gonna need this. What was in that injection I gave you five minutes ago would only be enough to relieve a headache. Of a kid. A skinny one.'

Aarif took the vodka and drunk.

'My turn,' Paris sighed frustratedly as she took the bottle from Aarif's hand and drank, too. 'Sorry about that,' she said as she left the bottle down next to his leg.

'About wha... Allah kerim!' Aarif hissed in pain as he felt Paris take the bullet out, suddenly and swiftly.

He shut his eyes and breathed in slowly, his jaw clenching wildly. In and then out. Breathe in. Breathe out. The secret of keeping alive.

'You're tough,' Paris' voice carried to his ears and it bore a certain flair of admiration.

'Come on, have some,' she added comfortingly and put the bottle back into his hand while inspecting the bullet in the pincette.

* * *

><p>* End of Part One *<p>

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><p><strong>Okay, guys, end of Part One. I know it's kind of short, and that's all due to my lack of patience - I was so eager to know what you think of the new storyline, that I divided this chapter in two... I duly promise to reveal Aarif's mission in Part Two, as, why he was sent to spy on Jess and what he needs Jess' help for. I just felt like writing all this in a separate chapter so that I could give it some extra work...<br>I truly hope you still enjoy the story, guys:) I'd be so grateful if you let me know what you think about the new direction of the storyline - like it, hate it?...**

** You know just how to let me know what you liked AND what you didn't like - see, I need both, so that I can try to do better next time;)  
><strong>


	20. Stranger At The Door, Part 2

_**Disclaimer: **I don't own the characters and I make no profit of them. Aarif's all mine, though.**  
><strong>_

_small a/n: Sorry for the update delay, guys, it's been forever, but thanks to those who never stopped supporting this story, here it is, a long-delayed and maybe a bit short, yet hearty update.  
><em>

_**Big A/N: PLEASE READ FIRST:**_

**ALL REAL NAMES, EVENTS AND FACTS **in this chapter are used as part of the **FICTIONAL PLOT **I have for this story, and I will ask the readers to please keep that in mind while reading. This story is fan fiction and I don't claim it to be anything else.

**Thanks to everyone who is still following this story! For everyone who demanded this chapter - I hope you enjoy!:)**_**  
><strong>_

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><p><strong>"The real hero is always a hero by mistake; he dreams of being an honest coward like everybody else." <strong>

**Umberto Eco**

* * *

><p>Aarif opened his eyes at the sound of a door slamming. As he searched for what had caused the sound, he saw Jess noisily drag a chair to the side of the bed.<p>

Jess sat down in the chair with his feet stretched before him, crossed at the ankles, hands folded before his chest, eyes flashing with suppressed anger.

'I'm listening,' Jess scoffed, in a demeanor Aarif imagined he would to his fifteen year old son if he caught him stealing or something. _Stoical patience._

Aarif lifted his right arm to rub his eyes and grimaced with pain as he did so. Right, Paris had told them he was eventually gonna get better, but the pain would be pretty bad for at least a couple of weeks.

Jess watched impartially. Not that he was ever one to cry his heart out for someone's physical pain or something. No, right now, he was actually the first to wish he had shot the guy himself.

'I was assigned with you,' Aarif started and tried to move himself to sit in the bed, using only his unharmed arm for support.

Jess watched him icily.

'There is very close surveillance over every US citizen who crosses a Pakistani border,' Aarif continued, managing a half sitting position, 'especially over journalists and whomever in the mass media.'

Jess' eyebrows curved up a little, but he kept silent.

'The ability to manipulate people's opinion is a strong device, you know that. Nothing compares to the intelligence of a _crowd_ - it's less than the one of the most stupid man in it, divided by the number of people it consists of. And the government is well aware,' Aarif went on and his eyes darted towards Jess'.

In other circumstances, Jess would make a comment on Aarif quoting _Pratchett_, and Aarif knew it. But he wasn't surprised this time his friend sat on motionlessly in his chair, waiting for him to elaborate.

'So,' Aarif continued, 'basically, I had to check up on you. By what we knew, which wasn't much, you had had a troubled childhood, finished high school two years late and published a book. You had a job, your book was selling okay, your life seemed to finally be coming to some settling point. And then, suddenly, you decide to come to Pakistan and write about terrorism.'

_I don't deserve this, Rory._

_You don't._

Aarif paused and shook his head thoughtfully.

'It didn't make sense. You know, there aren't many normal people who do that, and since everyone who crossed border was being checked upon, you kind of stuck out. Who had sent you? What for? Why you? A young American writer writing about terrorism? Was that what you were? That's why I met you in that bookshop in the first place,' Aarif gave Jess a slight nod.

They were both reminiscing that day, almost three years ago.

'In a few days, anyway, I knew you were no threat.' Aarif's pale lips moved an inch up.

Jess' eyebrows were still knit together.

Aarif knew what Jess' unspoken question was.

_Why did you follow me then? If you knew I was no threat, why did you spend more than a year with a worldly unknown American writer, pretending to be someone else?_

'Jess, have you heard of _news fiction_?' Aarif asked then, instead of a reply.

A baffled flash crossed Jess' eyes before he regained an impartial expression and nodded slowly.

He had come across that stuff. Political fiction. The news as they _could_ be. It was basically built on quoting real political figures on real events. However, political fiction only used certain words the politician did say, and then faked all the rest to serve mainly manipulation purposes.

Jess had once read something based on _Obama_'s speech on Afghanistan policy which started with _'three thousand Americans being murdered and terrorists plotting to strike again, America having actionable intelligence and being ready to react,'_ but then went on with America's plan on striking first and not letting foreign elements design US defense strategies. In a subtle way, it was provocative and implied future war.

'From what you've heard,' Aarif continued, 'I guess you know how hard it can be to distinguish the real news from the fictional ones.'

Jess watched him silently.

'You heard about _Assange_ and _Wiki Leaks_, right? That's just one side of the matter. There are two groups of people - these who believe in world conspiracy and those who don't. And a third group, who manipulates the first two. It's just that most people believe only the first two exist.'

Aarif paused and let out a quiet sigh, thinking his next words over.

'Censorship on the _Internet_ is extremely precise in the Middle East,' he explained.

'Remember how hard it was to even open your email when we were in those villages near _Peshawar?_ But there is this _news fiction_ site that's not banned and it's gaining growing popularity in Pakistan. I mean,' Aarif made a gesture with his left hand, '_huge_ popularity.'

'And people truly _believe_ what they read there. At first I was struck by the fact it wasn't banned. But then I thought that there was some good reason it wasn't, right? You need quite a back to maintain such a thing - some of the articles there are... let's say in the best case they are pretty _suggestive_ of impending _international conflict_. It looked like...' Aarif rubbed his good hand across his chin.

'How do you say that in English? Ah, yeah, _something's cooking_. I started investigating the people who supported this site and, guess what, there was actually a _company_ behind it... a _weapon company_.'

Their eyes met and Jess licked a lip.

'Where do I stand in all this?' he asked coldly, although his eyes had softened, Aarif could tell.

On some level, Jess intuitively felt all Aarif was telling him was true.

'The reason we met in that bookshop was because I was assigned with you,' Aarif admitted bluntly. 'Then, when I started to investigate the weapon company, you became undercover.'

Jess' jaw clenched.

'Then you became a friend,' Aarif added quietly.

'Cut the crap,' Jess hissed, suddenly getting agitated, 'What did you come here for, Aarif?'

Aarif sighed.

'I told you, you're the only one I can trust,' he answered simply.

'When I got to the weapon company, I went straight to my boss, told him I had information on the investigation... That was right before we were ambushed in that camp in the desert...'_ and you saved my life_, was the unvoiced end of the sentence.

_Seems I really am the only one you can trust. Too bad that _you _aren't, _Jess thought bitterly.

'I need someone who can write articles so convincing, so that they can prevent another war,' Aarif said slowly, carefully.

Jess' head jerked up, his mouth slightly open. He stood up and started passing to and fro, trying to compose himself.

'Hilarious, that's just hilarious!' he snarled, shaking his head.

He exhaled noisily and ran both hands through his hair.

'Are you out of your mind? Who do you think I am, _Gandhi_?'

A muscle over Aarif's jaw twitched as Jess continued pacing.

'You're unbelievable, you're fuckin' unbelievable. This is not a video game, this is my goddamn life we're talking about here. Did you even think about Rory when you came here, Aarif? Did you think about her when you came here in the middle of the night, shot, bleeding and possibly followed? She's my wife, for God's sake! My _wife, _Aarif!' he pointed at his own chest, blind with fury.

He paused, trying to catch his own breath, staring at his own feet. When he spoke again, his voice was quiet and even.

'I want you out of here by the end of the day.'

* * *

><p>'What does he want?' Rory asked as Jess entered the room, leaving her steaming mug on the bar plot.<p>

'Just the usual, he asked me to join him on a _save the world_ mission and prevent a World War III,' Jess huffed frustratedly.

Rory looked up at him before she took his hand and lead him on to the sofa. She sat down and pulled him along.

'Jess... what's going on?' she asked quietly, trying not to sound upset.

Jess leaned forward on his elbows and rested his head into both hands.

She scooted closer, inspecting him intently.

As he felt her hands wrap round his waist, he closed his eyes and relaxed.

'Come 'ere,' she whispered, drawing him towards herself, so that his head rested into her lap.

She started gently massaging his temples.

He let out an audible sigh.

'Tell me everything,' she demanded softly, her fingers feather-light over his cheekbones, jaw, lips, closed eyelids. 'You're not alone in this. Whatever it is, you're not alone.'

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** **Cards on table, there comes BIG CONSPIRACY. Any thoughts? Your opinions are eagerly welcomed.  
><strong>


	21. Promise Me

Disclaimer: I own nothing... nah, sorry, I do! - Aarif's all mine (maniacal laughter):P

_A/N: Thanks should go to everyone who made it to this chapter! As I promised once, I never forget about a story, and I fully intend on finishing this one, as well as the others. It just takes some time.  
><em>

PLEASE NOTE that **all the events in this chapter are fictional** and are only intended to serve the literary purposes of this story.

Hope you enjoy:)

Thanks for the lovely reviews, and _thank you, **Lyra**_! You made me feel so proud! :) And thank you,** ZA ZA zoom**, for making me get myself together and post this update:)

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><p><strong> '... and I will be waiting for you, as in an empty station<strong>

** when the trains are parked off somewhere else, asleep...'**

** Pablo Neruda**

* * *

><p>'What's the name again?' the medical receptionist narrowed her eyes facing the computer.<p>

'Rory Mariano,' Jess answered quickly, frustration making its way through his voice.

He looked impatiently from side to side. The hospital was buzzing with people. Ambulance sirens and urgent voices, carried from the emergency entrance. Two women laughing to his left, while making their way through the sliding exit doors. Probably nurses, just finished another shift. A couple of doctors hurrying in the corridors. An orderly pushing a wheelchair towards the elevator. A teenager stretching bubble gum next to the small decorative fountain. Some kid playing on his dad's _iPhone_ next to the coffee machine.

Jess' mouth was dry and he felt sick.

'And you are...?' the receptionist looked up, a nearly helpful mixture of boredom and politeness.

'Her husband.'

Fuck, his mouth was really dry. He licked a lip.

Then there it was. _The look_. The receptionist gave him a look that contained a tad more pity than Jess was ready to bear.

_Don't panic._ _Don't fucking panic._

Jess refused to panic. Or at least he told himself so.

'I'm her husband,' he repeated desperately, 'I need to see her. Rory Mariano...'

'Yeah,' the receptionist cut in. Then, almost friendly, 'I'll make a call. Please wait in this corridor until doctor Cohen comes and gives you some more detail...'

The words started to dissolve into Jess' mind, like watercolors washing away with cold water. He felt dizzy. He didn't remember going into the long corridor, but he found himself pacing to and fro in the narrow space. There were lamps. Yellow. Sickeningly yellow, blurring his vision. Or maybe it wasn't the lights. He didn't know. He didn't know anything at all. He didn't know what to think, he didn't remember _how_ to think. He didn't feel able to process anything else than sickeningly bright yellow lights in a narrow corridor. His steps, thumping evenly against the linoleum floor. Thump-thump. Thump-thump. A heartbeat. Her heartbeat against his earlobe when he let her hug him like a little boy. He stopped.

He felt empty. For the first time in his life, he didn't feel anything else than blind, desperate hope.

He started walking again, pacing from one end of the narrow corridor to the other, holding on to the single discernible thing in his universe right now - hope.

* * *

><p><strong><span><em>72 hours earlier<em>**

'Jess,' Rory's voice carried from the dining room.

'I know, I'll have the toaster fixed, just gimme a sec,' Jess answered from the bedroom while trying to shimmy into his sweatpants one-handedly.

'Jess, you have to see this,' Rory's voice came more urgent than usual, which made Jess leave the notepad with his scribble to the side and slide into the pants two-handedly.

When he entered the dining room, Rory was standing stiffly before the TV, her hand was closed around the remote.

'What's up?' Jess stifled a yawn. Then, concern surfacing, 'Ror?'

He stepped closer and his gaze drifted between his wife and the TV. Rory turned the volume up which drew Jess' attention to the newsflash onscreen.

'... about the rising conflict with the Middle East. Now we're heading towards the White House, where the press secretary is ready to make a statement...'

'Aarif was right,' Rory mumbled, her eyes meeting Jess'.

He stood numbly, watching as a group of long-bearded men was burning the American national flag onscreen.

...

Jess opened the door and paused on the doorstep.

'Aarif,' he acknowledged rather than exclaimed.

He wasn't really surprised. He expected Aarif to show up at some point. That's what Aarif did. Showed up. He emerged and then disappeared from Jess' life, just to show up uninvited again. It's just what the guy did. It was like he was constantly hesitating between being and not being around.

His shoulder looked better. Much better, in Jess' opinion. Not that it was his concern. Aarif wasn't his concern anymore, Jess reminded himself.

'Is there somewhere we could talk?' Aarif asked, his dark vivid eyes searching Jess'.

...

'I want you to go to Lorelai's.'

'No.'

Jess inhaled and exhaled slowly.

'Rory...'

She crossed her arms before her chest, meeting his look openly.

'I'm not leaving you alone here,' she insisted.

Jess let out a frustrated sigh.

'That's insane.'

'_I_ am insane, you love me for it.'

Jess' patience was about to drain soon. He made a deliberately long pause before he replied, his words chosen carefully, the look on his face dead serious.

'I'd still love you if you didn't hang out around terrorists.'

'I'm not going anywhere,' she shook her head stubbornly. 'I have to keep an eye on my husband,' she added, a trace of sadness tracing her voice, 'so that he doesn't get in too far saving the nation.'

'This is wrong,' Jess shook his head wearily. 'This is just... wrong.'

Rory made a step forward, uncrossing her arms, reaching out a palm to cup his face.

'Then we make it right, okay?' she smiled tenderly.

He leaned into her touch and closed his eyes.

...

Jess rested his forehead against hers. Aarif was outside, waiting. Jess refused to let him in. As if keeping him out of the apartment would mean keeping that man away from Rory, keeping her safe out of all this. Rory knew better than to press things, so she had just exchanged a nod with Aarif at the door. Something like a quiet agreement.

She wanted Aarif to know that Jess had forgiven him, though it would take time to show. She also wanted him to know that she wasn't giving him her man, she was just... lending him. Until all of this (whatever it was they were up to), was over. Then, Jess was gonna be summoned back home, no nation saving activities, no CNN worth conspiracy cracking. Only shopping groceries and painting the walls of the spare room. She wanted Aarif to know all that, and, somehow, she had a feeling he did.

'I need you to promise me something,' Jess kept her face between his palms.

Rory looked up, her brows furrowing. He was so serious. He looked sad and serious. And pleading. She nodded. How could she deny anything he asked?

'Wait here,' he breathed out, 'No phone calling, no texting, no setting out to look for me. Just... wait for me till I come back... okay?'

'Jess...'

'Promise me,' his eyes were burning hers, the intensity of his plead making her feel dizzy. How could she not obey?

Rory felt a pang of concern rocket through her body, but nodded anyway.

'Okay. I promise.'

Jess closed his eyes tight and placed a kiss on her forehead.

'I love you,' he whispered. 'You have no idea.'

'I do,' she closed her eyes. 'And I love _you_.'

They stood still for a few moments, foreheads touching, hearts pounding, before she stepped back and wiped her eyes.

'Come on, before this starts to sound like a goodbye,' she smiled and licked a lip, tasting salt. ' It's... it's not a goodbye, right?'

'It's not a goodbye.'

She nodded, her smile growing, forcing herself to be calm.

'Okay. Be safe, Jess.'

'Be safe, Ror.'

...

**_73 hours later_**

Jess lifted his head and looked at his reflection. The water was still running and he rinsed his face, letting the cold drops roll down his skin. His reflection looked surreal. He never thought he'd have to witness his own breakdown in a hospital bathroom with cold water running down his hands. Maybe because he wouldn't. He couldn't break now, not just now. Because it was one of those times when he couldn't leave. He stopped the tap.

'Hey,' he stepped from foot to foot awkwardly before gathering the courage to take the chair beside her bed.

Rory turned to look at him wearily. She was in one of those hospital gowns and had a wide cut over her eyebrow, a _superhero cut_, as they would refer to it, had the circumstances been different. Her cheek was swollen and had started to bruise. He didn't dare reach out to touch it. He was afraid of what he had to say.

'I...' Jess licked a lip, feeling his voice weak. 'I talked to the doctors. Word is you're gonna jump out of bed in a couple of days.'

His voice died, as if he had just small amounts of strength that drained out in a sentence time. He had to gather up courage for each next word.

He swallowed dryly and reached for Rory's hand. Blood rushed into his head, clouding his mind.

'Ror...'

'I know,' she said flatly and her eyes met his. Blue. Cold, icy blue. She'd never seemed so distant. 'I feel it.'

He lifted her hand and pressed his lips against the bruised skin of her knuckles. He squeezed his eyes shut, fighting back the swirl of emotions, holding on to her slender fingers.

_Promise me._

_Okay. I promise._

She didn't wait home for him, though. She got a phone call telling her her husband was in danger and she didn't stand a chance. She set out to save him. It was an awful mistake. It ended up with his lovely pregnant wife falling off a burning train. The train on which he should've been. He should've been the one attached to this monitor, not her. It was all a nightmare. Bloody nightmare.

When he opened his eyes again, she wasn't looking at him anymore, but was facing away, a faraway look in her eyes.

'Rory... say something. Please.'

She didn't even turn to look at him. Suddenly, her hand felt stiff between his palms. Distant. Like she weren't here, like she hadn't just lost a child. Like he hadn't just shared this loss. Like he weren't there at all. And then, the thought struck him. She didn't want him there. She didn't want him by her bed, in her hospital room. In her grief. She didn't want him around. And right there, this very second, Jess Mariano's world ended. Like someone kicked the air out of his lungs. For a short moment time stood still, realization dawning, enveloping him in its numb wake. Then the moment was over, the sound of her pulse from the monitor breaking through the silence within his head. She was alive. She was still there. Maybe it was the last thing she wanted right now, but so was he. He was there.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Dear reader(s), I know you pretty much don't have a clue what just happened, especially what the specifics about Rory's accident are. In telegraphic style, after Jess left, she got a call that made her break their agreement and she got herself in some trouble, ending with this accident. I aimed for some mystery touch here and am well aware I most probably left you asking 'what the...' at the end of this chapter. Plus, it would be real cool if I was a writer good enough to get the events through my sole writing and not through an author's note, but oh well... Anyway, I solemnly promise to shed some light on the events, all in the next chapter. Bear with me, maybe? :) If you drop a word (good, bad, any), that would be more than I could ask for :)**


	22. Stepford

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Only an idea, and then... well nothing else then, but this story. Hope you enjoy:)

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><p><strong>'I won't be here when you get back, don't you see? It's going to happen before then. Don't ask me to explain it, I just know. There'll be somebody with my name, and she'll cook and clean like crazy, but she won't take pictures, and she won't be me! She'll - she'll, she'll be like one of those the robots in Disneyland.'<strong>

** The Stepford Wives**

* * *

><p>'What were you doing in Pakistan?'<p>

_Running away._

'Research for my book.'

'Any particular reason you chose Pakistan?'

'It was as far from the States as I could get.'

The official paused, pen in hand, and gave him a sizing look.

'What do you know about Aarif Akhtar?'

_I don't even know you._

_You know me. You just didn't know everything about me._

'Mister Mariano?'

_I was assigned with you. Then you became undercover._

_I want you out of here._

'He was my guide in Pakistan.'

'And that's all?'

_You're the only one I can trust._

'Pretty much all.'

_What does he want?_

_Just the usual, he wants me to join him on a save the world mission._

'Do you know what Mr Akhtar's previous occupation involved?'

Jess remained silent.

'Mr Mariano?'

'He has been at the barracks, I think.'

'You kept in touch after you left Pakistan?'

_Aarif has been shot, I called Paris and she's on her way._

'No.'

'Did he have any reason to push your wife off a train, Mister Mariano?'

Jess looked up and his eyes could burn holes.

_The train was burning._

'Not that I know of.'

_It exploded right afterwards._

'Do you know what your wife was doing on that train?'

_Trying to warn me. I had to be on that train, along with Aarif, posting on a news fiction Pakistani site, revealing the truth behind Niko Weapons & Co. While the train was moving, they would have trouble localizing the source of the information. Aarif tried to call me at home and he left a message on the answering machine. Rory heard the message and set off to find me.  
><em>

'She was doing a research on an assignment. She's the editor of a TV show.'

_ They found out earlier. Aarif called on my mobile and told me to not get on the train, throw my mobile away, because it was pretty much a tracking device.  
><em>

The police official eyed him suspiciously.

'Okay, then,' he closed the file with a sigh. 'That would be all for now.'

Jess stood up to leave.

'You can press charges, you know,' the official said, 'but I don't think there's much point. The train burned out like a matchstick right after your wife was pushed off. I doubt we'll even find the remains of Mr Akhtar's body.'

Jess paused by the door, feeling something within him crack, and then left the room.

* * *

><p>Jess Mariano opened the door to his apartment and hesitated before walking in.<p>

He found his wife cutting cucumber. She had put on an apron, one he didn't know she had in her wardrobe.

'Hey.'

She continued chopping, obviously too concerned about the cucumber.

'What are you doing?' he asked, his throat scratchy. It was awkward. Everything since they came home from the hospital felt awkward. As if she were trying to make the accident seem like it didn't happen. As if they didn't lose a child.

'Salad,' she said in a polite, faraway tone.

No 'how did it go with the police', no 'did they find Aarif's body', no 'I hate you for involving me into all this'.

'O-kay...' he scratched the back of his head. 'Want some help?' he decided to try.

'I'm fine, thanks.'

She said that a lot lately. I'm fine. Like a mantra. He wasn't. He wasn't fine and she wasn't either.

He didn't know what to say. What not to say. He was especially concerned about the things he shouldn't say. His attempts to talk to her looked more and more like a joke while she was busying herself with wiping shelves, ironing, cooking. _Cooking, _ for God's sake.

'We're invited to Patricia and George's next weekend,' she said in that same distant, almost business tone. 'George is baking salmon.'

'Okay.'

* * *

><p>Someone spoke through her mouth. Someone looked through her eyes. But it wasn't her. The vacancy of her look brought an uneasy feeling, a vague doubt taking place at the back of his unsettling mind.<p>

They were in Patricia and George's garden, and George was cooking salmon. Somehow, the overall cheerfulness of the guests ate Jess' nerves. It was absurd.

Rory was talking to Patricia.

'When are you gonna come back to work?' Patricia asked. 'Everyone's been asking about you.'

'Soon. I was thinking next month.'

'Great. Truth be told, I wouldn't be eager to come back, either.'

'Yeah. A vacation is always welcome.'

Jess watched as the two women smiled at each other, not missing the plastic appearance of Rory's smile. He felt sick.

Rory met his eyes and his feelings must have been apparent by the look on his face, because she excused herself and went inside the house.

Jess followed. He found her in the backyard.

He inhaled and exhaled noisily, trying to prepare himself.

'Rory?'

She didn't turn back. He wasn't sure if it was because she didn't hear him, or because she didn't care what he had to say to her.

He repeated, louder,

'Rory, you okay?'

She turned to face him, her face composed. Only her eyes were watery and Jess didn't miss that.

'Just... talk to me?' he pleaded.

They both knew this dance around the truth couldn't go on for ages. They had to have that talk. The one that referred to what happened three weeks ago. It had been three damn weeks, and they hadn't talked about it yet. Who would've thought Jess Mariano would be begging for a conversation?

'Yell at me, why won't you yell at me?' he asked helplessly, fearing he was beginning to sound more and more like a lunatic.

'I would yell at myself, you know?' he tried a smile. It came out bitter. 'Punch me. Just... talk to me. Please.'

She continued to stare at him blankly, her eyes glazing somewhere through him.

'I think lunch is ready,' she uttered mechanically. _Politely_. She was so damn polite, she was talking to a stranger. 'Patricia will be looking for us.'

Jess felt he was losing it even before he took a sharp breath in, but he couldn't stop himself even if he'd tried. And, truth be told, he didn't try to stop himself anymore. Blood was rushing in his head and his ears were buzzing.

'For fuck's sake, Rory,' he spoke up and his voice scratched with each word, 'could you please stop acting like a goddamn Stepford wife and talk to me? 'Cause I'm also here, you know? And you're just pretending I'm not, as if I'm not part of what's happening, as if... as if part of me didn't die there that day, too. I also lost something that afternoon and I can't afford to lose you, too, can't you see? I need you to talk to me, I just really need you to...' he trailed off and took a breath, running a hand through his hair, trying to compose himself. 'I...'

His voice cracked and he took a quick step forward, reaching for her and catching her face in his hands. He caught her lips between his and held her face as his tongue demanded access, entering and deepening the kiss quickly, desperately trying to convey just how much he needed her right now.

_Come back to me.  
><em>

_Remember the times when you'd swat my arm for acting like a caveman, but then kiss back fiercely? Or when, completely out of context, _you'd whisper_ something in my ear and _ _make me lose my mind ___while wandering through a grocery store pushing a cart full of frozen fries and pop tarts?_ Do you remember those times?  
><em>

With a long suppressed urge, his hands moved from her face down her sides to her lower back, drawing her close, inappropriately close given they were in the middle of someone else's lawn and it was mid afternoon, clinging her to him firmly.

'I missed you,' he whispered against the corner of her mouth and felt heat run through his whole body.

Then froze. Something wasn't right, he realized. She wasn't kissing back. She was standing like a doll in his arms and she hadn't kissed back.

Numbly, he made a step backwards, hands still slightly bent in the elbows where he had held her flush, the sudden realization registering like a cold shower in each cell of his body.

Rory breathed out slowly. She reached up to smooth her hair and readjusted her skirt.

'I...' she started carefully as his eyes drilled hers.

She hadn't kissed back. His heart thumped wildly in his ears.

'I think I'll go visit mom for a few days,' she said then and his blood stopped in his veins.

Every promise they had made that day a couple of months ago went to waste. Words. Everything they shared was just a bunch of words.

Later that evening, as they came back home, she packed a suitcase and said she planned on leaving for Stars Hollow with the first bus.

'I'll drive you,' Jess informed coldly, resting his head back against his pillow. Just weeks ago, she would throw hers in their feet and rest her head on his pillow. Looking for an excuse to be closer. Not that he would mind. She didn't need an excuse. As far as she needed him.

She took her ring off that evening, left it on the bathroom shelf. He stood at the bathroom door, feeling as if someone just shot him. She mumbled something vaguely apologetic about washing her hands and taking it off to keep from losing. She passed by him. His eyes were glued to the ring, left on the bathroom shelf.

'It's okay,' she smoothed her pillow and lied down, too, careful to not touch him, 'you'll probably still be slee...'

'I'll drive you,' he repeated and then turned the bed light off.

* * *

><p>He killed the engine and his eyes paused on the dashboard for a moment before he turned to her. They had spent the whole way to Stars Hollow in silence.<p>

Rory reached for the car door handle but Jess reached over and his hand covered hers. She turned to face him.

There was an urgency in his look. A desperate hope.

'Will you ever forgive me?' he asked, not sure it was his own voice that said the words.

Their eyes locked in silent battle before she looked away and uttered an 'I'll see you,' and got off the car.

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><p><strong>AN: Drop a word, maybe? Thanks to everyone who's following this story, as promised, I fully intend on finishing it, even if it takes me ages to update :) Thanks for being there and reading :)**


	23. Dear Prot

_Disclaimer: Nothing's mine. Only the plot. And Aarif. Nothing else, though._

_A/N: As promised, this story is (literally) taking ages to finish, BUT I'm not leaving without finishing it. Thanks to everyone who still feels driven to stick with it, all this time, and I'll try not to disappoint.  
><em>

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><p>Rory Gilmore finished her dinner and washed her plate in the sink. She washed it carefully, then put it in the dip tray to dry.<p>

Outside, another peaceful evening was making itself comfortable.

Rory rested both palms on the edge of the sink and let her look roam out through the kitchen window.

Quiet. The quiet of her hometown filled her with anger she didn't know the words to conceal. She had come here looking for rest, but all she felt was restless. She had made up her mind to keep quiet, but there were voices in her head that couldn't be talked down.

She remembered that one time she got anything different from a book for a birthday present. It was a Rubik's cube. She must have been turning eight that year. The very second she got the cube, she started trying to solve it. She wouldn't stop for the whole night. By the morning her eyes were burning, she was feeling nauseous and her hands were slightly discordant, but she still wouldn't give up on the Magic cube. She was so excited to know what its secret was. When Miss Patty saw her on the porch, she stopped by to ask what Rory was doing, then let out goodnatured chuckle. 'But there's no magic in the cube, dear. It's all you.'

Somehow, her whole conscious life, Rory Gilmore had believed she had magic in her. That special touch of imagination to make everything better than it originally was. It was books' fault. Books and hope. And imagination.

Tonight, she realized she didn't feel that magic anymore. She turned the water tap down and went out.

She ran out of the room, out of the house, crossed the porch of her childhood home as if it were on fire, and stopped only when she reached the grass-covered lawn. It was quiet. Maddeningly quiet.

Trapped in her own skin, she looked around.

The sprinklers went off. She had spent some of her happiest years here. The sprinklers were new, though. _Luke_. They produced a hiss that broke the silence, calling out to her. She walked towards them blindly, letting water drops soak through her clothes, like tears she couldn't bring herself to let go, they kept coming. She stared at the small black tap of the sprinkler for a while, and then lay down in the grass, closing her eyes against the water. It kept coming. Then she felt something else, warm and stringy down her cheeks. At first the sobs were small, quiet. Like a distant echo of someone she used to be.

She didn't cry for her lost unborn baby. She didn't cry for her lonely husband. She cried for the pointlessness of life without them. She tried to imagine her day tomorrow, and she saw nothing. Nothing was there for her and the emptiness hurt more than anything else had in her life so far.

Lorelai went out on the porch. She saw her daughter lying in the grass under the sprinklers and paused for a moment. Then crossed her lawn and lay down beside her, letting the water soak her as well.

Lorelai found Rory's hand in the grass and laced her fingers through her daughter's.

'It's gonna get better, hon,' Lorelai promised, squeezing Rory's hand in hers.

'It won't,' Rory's voice came, sad and hollow. 'There's nothing there. I look ahead and there's nothing.'

'Then sometimes, you have to look back. He's also hurting and he misses you.'

'He'll never forgive me,' Rory's voice came out even. 'He feels guilty now, but he'll think about it and he'll never forgive me.'

'Hon...'

'I killed his son,' her voice cracked and she shook with another sob.

Lorelai put her arms around her daughter and held her tight as Rory shook with the weigh of a burden she didn't know how to carry.

'He made me promise, and I killed his son.'

'Oh, Rory.'

* * *

><p><em>I like your neck.<em>

_Huh?_

_It's wiry._

_It is?_

_Yep. It shows when you crack your neck or hang your head back. Your voice box motions forward._

_Mhm._

_You're not listening._

_I am. We were discussing my voice box._

_Jess._

_Mm?_

_I'm pregnant._

Rory opened her eyes and they burnt in the darkness of her childhood bedroom. She felt hollow, emptied of substance. She lay with her eyes open, praying for that terrible ache to go away.

* * *

><p>Jess paced around the living room of his apartment, running both hands through his hair tiredly.<p>

Something wouldn't let him sleep and it was a nonsensical feeling of incompleness.

He stopped in the middle of the kitchen, as if lost, and chewed on the insides of his cheeks. And then he felt it. It was pulling at him, sending a shiver down half of his body, the half that was turned towards the place.

The air stood still as he stepped into the small room, painted in bright azure. And it swallowed him in, thick with memories of what never came to be.

Luke had removed the crib the day before they got back from the hospital. It didn't make a difference, though. They both still saw it where they'd put it six weeks ago. Jess saw it in her, that pain, and knew exactly what it was, because something within him snapped, too.

They were characters in a damn Kafka short story, that's what they were. Damn.

Jess looked around, his eyes pausing over the seaworld covering the walls of the room. Fish. Clams. Corals. Crabs surrounding him, making the room feel like this deep sea that was about to drown him if he didn't get out sooner.

* * *

><p>Lorelai made a few nervous steps in her living room, throwing a look at her mobile every now and then. When it finally beeped, she jumped up, as if she didn't expect it to. She had asked him to come, but she had some solid doubts he would. Well, she was wrong.<p>

'I'm out to fetch some food, sweetie,' she called out, taking her coat and going out hastily.

_Meet me at Luke's. Gimme a call when you're in._

Okay. Step one.

* * *

><p>Lorelai finished her mini-speech and paused, studying his face. He had that look she had seen before. She had seen it on Luke, she had seen it on Jess. Especially on Jess. When he was looking like it caused him physical pain to keep his eyes on something, but he couldn't move his gaze anyway. He had that expression now. As if waiting for the pain to soak through him. He was aware what this trip, what this conversation was going to cost him, yet he was putting himself through it with trained acceptance. Because he couldn't imagine not being here. Not having this conversation. Not feeling this pain.<p>

'I guess I'm the last person you'd like to hear from right now,' she had started, trying the ground. He didn't correct her.

'But we both know Rory can be stubborn like hell.' He kept waiting for her point.

'God, this is hard, you know? I really wanna tell you to not lock yourself in this pain without sounding cheesy and cliche, but it's just not coming to me the way I imagined it would.'

He looked up at her strangely. Was that what Rory was doing? Locking herself in what happened?

'She's gonna forgive herself,' Lorelai said then. 'She's just not there yet.'

There was a pause filled with a less uneasy silence, a mutual understanding passing through both of them, before they were interrupted by a familiar voice.

'Can I have the salt, please?'

'Yes, Kirk,' Lorelai answered, plastering a wide smile on her lips. Jess recognized it as her 'leave now or I'll make you' smile. It wasn't hard, given he had one of these himself.

'Thank you, Lorelai,' Kirk pressed the salter to his chest. 'Thank you so much.'

'Kirk.'

'Lorelai.'

She eyed him suspiciously.

'You're not rehearsing your _thank you_ speech, are you?'

Kirk looked down shily.

'Maybe. A little.'

'He's in an Oscar phase,' Lorelai explained to Jess matter-of-factly as the man went back to his table. 'So, where were we? Ah, right, I was telling you she's gonna forgive herself.'

Jess frowned.

'About... about what?'

'Same thing you've been beating yourself about, dear Prot.'

Jess' brow inched up. Did this woman just compare him to a K-Pax character? Jeez.

'Oh, I got it!' Lorelai exclaimed then. 'I remembered an aphorism that is not cliche.'

Jess blinked stoically. This woman was crazy. But crazy in a way that made him think of Rory and just hit too close to home to ignore. This is pathetic, he thought absently. Trying to substitute talking to your wife with her mother's crazy banter. This wasn't how things worked.

'When stars bang on each other, it doesn't mean they have to die - this is the way new worlds are created. This is life,' Lorelai said then, attracting his attention.

Jess frowned.

'You read Chaplin's bio?'

'Nah, it was on _Cosmo_ this morning,' Lorelai waved her hand. 'But it applies.'

Jess couldn't help but wonder, _what the hell am I doing_?.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Thanks for reading :) I'd be happy to hear a word, whatever you thought is welcome :)_

_Oh, and I know you want them to get together, and they will. It's just gonna take some time, I suppose. _


	24. I'll Hold You And Wait

**A/N: **_Hey there :) It's been awhile, eh? Because of that and just because, I decided to brief myself (and those of you who feel prompted to read) with a resume of what basically happened so far in this story. If you don't need this, feel free to skip :) ___O_n with  
><em>

**~ PREVIOUSLY IN _'AS IF'_ ~ **

_ - After the infamous Truncheon 'It is what it is' experience Jess decided to take up on a different project and went to Pakistan on a field trip for his next book regarding terrorism. There he met Aarif, a Pakistani interpreter who also became Jess' friend._

_ - Two years later, Jess came back from Pakistan to attend Luke and Lorelai's wedding, where he and Rory reunited and began a relationship, tentative at first but ultimately leading to marriage._

_ - One year later, Aarif showed up at Jess' doorstep and involved him in a 'save the world from an international conflict' mission. Things got messed up though, and Rory and Aarif got into an accident where Rory lost her (and Jess') baby. After the accident, Rory estranged from Jess and went back to Stars Hollow to stay with Lorelai._

Now, on with

** Chapter 24, 'I'll Hold You And Wait'**

**"Forgive someone today. Especially if that someone is you."**  
>― Gina Greenlee, <em> Postcards and Pearls: Life Lessons from Solo Moments on the Road <em>

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><p><strong><em>6 months ago...<em>**

_'Hey.' _

_As he didn't get an answer, Jess stopped at the door to take a better look at his fiancee. Rory was sitting in the middle of their living room, surrounded by a pile of ribbons and veils, with a frustrated expression on her face. _

_'Which one do you think is tangerine?' she looked up, holding a piece of ribbon in each hand. _

_Jess scratched his head and threw his keys on the shelf by the door._

_'I thought tangerine was a fruit.'  
><em>

_'Not according to **Bridesmaids United**,' Rory's shoulders slumped.  
><em>

_'I won't even ask,' he smirked, kicking his shoes to the side and heading towards the fridge._

_'Can't one get married without becoming a color naci?.' she groaned. 'God, I never thought planning a wedding would be so...' she looked around, 'complicated.'_

_'There's always Vegas and Elvis,' Jess shrugged and opened a beer with a 'pop'._

_'Hah, funny,' Rory made a grimace. 'Imagine grandma getting the news - Ivy League graduate Rory Gilmore, granddaughter of Richard and Emily got married in a ___by the road _chapel. An Elvis was hired to carry out the ceremony. Jeez, do you imagine that?'_

_'I do.' Jess rested his elbows on the kitchen counter and took another gulp. 'It brightens my mood every time.'_

_'Jess, I'm serious,' Rory sighed warily. _

_'So am I,' he came to sit next to her. 'Look, I just want you to be my wife. I don't care about tangerine.' _

_She took in his expression. He was being serious._

_'You're cute.'_

_'Exactly what I was aiming for,' Jess rolled his eyes._

_'You are.' She paused for a second. 'Now, which one is tangerine?' she held up the ribbons again._

* * *

><p>She watched as he slowly leaned forward, almost spilling his coffee while doing so, staring at the letters. The screen of his laptop was lighting his face in the dim booth of the cafe, making him look slightly surreal. Rory urged her eyes to take as much detail as one could from such a distance. He moved a hand to type on the keyboard but then decided against it and resumed his previous position. His elbows were pressed against the smooth surface of the table, as if he was carrying an enormous weight.<p>

Since she left for Stars Hollow, almost three weeks ago, he came to this cafe every afternoon. He spent a few hours here working, then came back to an empty apartment.

It had been three weeks and they hadn't spoken yet.

Rory licked a lip in apprehension, remembering the long hours spent waiting by the phone, waiting for a call. The call would eventually come, sometimes in the afternoon, sometimes late or even later than late. She would always reject it. There was a strange feeling of comfort every time she saw his name flashing from the screen. Again and again, he would call and she wouldn't take it, knowing he would try again the next day. Until he didn't. Two days without a call from him (one she would reject, yet she ridiculously and selfishly missed not having the oppotunity to do so), and she left the Hollow. She came back to New York and hired a room a couple of streets from their apartment. She spent the whole morning gathering courage to come and look for him here. The cafe was small and rather unattractive from the outside, which made it a good place to spend hours in, undisturbed. She was thankful for the transparent glass windows that ensured a good view inside.

Jess ran both palms through his hair, letting his head fall forward. Then, in a sudden leap of determination, stood up. Rory found herself jumping at the swift motion.

She made a step back to ensure her hiding place behind a street corner. She watched as he came out of the cafe and lit a cigarette, looking ahead blindly. It felt like he was looking straight at her (or was he?). She bit a lip and made another step back.

This was absurd. Stalking her own husband. The husband she tried to push back in each and every possible way. Meaning to cut things off once and for all. Ha, the same way they've been cutting things off for the last ten years...

Stalking. That was the word, right? Of course, she could try to dress this differently. She was _missing_ him. She was just taking a _glimpse_. _Reminiscing_. God, this was so _pathetic_. She was pathetic. And a hypocrite. She had told him she needed time - time alone - and it was the truth. Kinda. She needed time to figure out how not to miss him. At least this part was true. But then, what was she doing once he decided to leave her alone and not attemt to contact her? Two days without him trying to reach her (because he had been trying and she was terrified that he had given it up, that he'd given _her_ up) and here she was, lurking behind a corner.

She leaned to take another quick look. Jess was squatting, finishing his smoke, putting out the butt against the pavement. He didn't rise right afterwards but hung his head between his shoulders. He looked beaten. She had done this, she thought. She broke him. She almost started towards him, wanting to apologize, explain herself, say she was sorry. For losing their baby, for letting him think she blamed it on him...

She desperately wanted things to go back to where they were before everything became this terrible mess. When there was still tomorrow to look forward to, when she would steal his T-shirt to sleep with, when in the morning he would leave for work leaving their bed a wreck and she would reprimand him for it when he came home afterwards. But then, they lost a child. _No_, she corrected herself. She did. She lost it. And her self-pity didn't do anyone any good.

However, before she had time to start towards him, Jess rose and she realized he was _smiling_. In fact, he was _laughing_. It was a voiceless laugh, one he saved for times of self irony.

Her eyes followed his hands as he took his phone out.

_Beep._

She held her mobile in her hand numbly.

_Beep._

_Beep._

They were so not cutting things off. Not now. Most probably, not ever. She laughed, too, stepping out of her hiding place.

'Hey.'

* * *

><p>'I hated him a little, you know?'<p>

They were at their (his... their? _their_...) apartment. She was sitting on the couch and he was standing awkwardly at the counter, playing with his beer can without actually remembering to drink from it.

She had asked, _is there somewhere we could talk_? He'd asked, _is home okay_? She'd said _okay_. He thought her face stilled for a moment when he said _home_. Had the word switched meaning in her head? Or maybe he was being paranoid. However, here they were.

'At first, when I woke up and realized I was alive and the baby wasn't,' Rory continued calmly, following his reaction. He was still dealing with the surprise of having her back at their apartment, actually speaking to him. She wasn't placating him with '_I'm fine, we're fine, everything's fine_'. She wasn't ignoring him. She was there, talking. This was quite a shock.

Rory suspected he wasn't listening intently.

'I hated Aarif for saving my life,' she continued.

Jess kept silent. Did he listen at all? She was starting to doubt it.

'I let you feel guilty for losing our child. It was just that... I didn't wanna carry that guilt upon myself. It was worng.'

His brows had knit together. Or maybe he was listening, after all.

It was the hardest, most meaningful confession she had to make in her life so far. The burden of it was so heavy, she couldn't keep it in anymore, although it choked her to say out loud.

At last, it dropped out,

'I'm sorry.'

Once it was out, there was silence. Then she felt impossibly lighter and her eyes began to sting.

* * *

><p>They were standing on a small hill about half an hour drive from New York. The city was swimming in a bluish haze, its lights shimmering on one by one, electrical fireflies coming to life.<p>

There was a small pile of fresh soil in their feet, a tree in its center. Because each time a dream died, something else had to be born. And each loss had to be acknowledged.

A couple, two ex to-be parents were looking down at what they'd just planted. There was hope. It was very fragile and unsure to grow, but there it was, and it was real, just as real as their loss.  
>Rory reached for Jess' hand.<p>

* * *

><p>It was already dark outside and they were back at the apartment, a mild awkwardness settling between them after the intimacy of the emotion they had shared on the hill.<p>

Rory held a book she had received what felt like a hundred years ago. _The Panchatantra. The Indian Book of Fables. _Aarif's gift for her before he'd even met her in person._  
><em>

'He was quite the spook, wasn't he?' she held the book up, showing it to Jess.

A shadow crossed his face.

'Yeah,' he looked down and his faint smile reflected hers. 'I guess he was.'

Aarif had been there for Jess when she wasn't. When he needed a friend half the world away, he'd been that friend. And, strangely, Rory felt she owed him some kind of appreciation.

'I'm sorry we lost him,' she looked down. 'But I'm thankful it was him and not you,' she added with a hard vibe in her voice.

Then she looked up and there was determination in her.

She was about to lose him again. Again, they had to forgive each other. Only, this time, Aarif wasn't around.

'Touch me.'

He blinked, unsure of whether he had actually heard her, or his imagination was playing tricks with him.

The smile on her lips gave him the answer.

'I'm right here.'

He thought about it for a while. Then reached out a hand to touch her shoulder, tracing her clavicle with only his fingertips, afraid the moment might be feeble and she might dissolve if he pressed any harder. She didn't dissolve. He made a step closer, feeling like a clumsy teenager, looking for a way to not mess things up with that girl he had been staring at through the whole of first semester.

Rory caught his look and read it. There was doubt. There was also unsettled hope. Tonight his emotions were on display, too caught in the moment to be able to cover them like he would normally do. Somehow, the realization made her feel brave.

She kept his look as she made a step back and caught the ends of her blouse, then took it off above her head. Her skirt followed and she could feel his look burning. He was standing, staring at her.

She reached forward and started unbuttoning his shirt, taking her time. She didn't miss the way his mouth twitched as her fingers occasionally brushed the skin underneath the shirt. When she was done, she let the loose ends fall freely and looked up at him with the start of a smile. A palm down his chest. He squeezed his eyes, as if the touch was causing him physical pain.

Up his abs, her palms paused where his heart raced. Waiting for confirmation. Checking if it was still hers to take. His eyes never left hers, conducting their own research.

She let her hands slide down his shoulders, taking his shirt off on their way.

Lifting on her tiptoes, she let her lips touch his cheek, tracing a line down his jaw. His body was stiff with last drops of restraint. He wanted to push her back, have a moment alone, think this over. She could tell. She knew he doubted this. He had every right to.

Her hands slid down his sides and her fingers hooked at the waistband of his jeans, slightly teasing the skin underneath.

She couldn't help a smile as she heard his breath hitch.

'Ror...'

'We don't have to talk about this now.'

He looked at her. His eyes bore a strange mixture of hurt and hope.

People asked him why he never quit smoking. It was, after all, a habit he aquired as a teenager. His answer was simple - _I never tried_. And it was the truth. He liked it too much to even try. It was part of who he was. Loving Rory Gilmore was worse. He couldn't quit it, had he tried. She was the reason he was the way he was. It would be on his gravestone: Jess Mariano. He liked to smoke and he was in love with Rory Gilmore.

'I missed you,' she said and whether it was her words or what he actually read in her, it seemed to satisfy him, because he visibly relaxed. His features softened, the shadows in his eyes seemed to lift a little. He made a step forward.

'Leave the lights on,' she whispered.

* * *

><p><strong>Mood Song - 'Lullaby For a Stormy Night', Vienna Teng<strong>


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